UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNl 
AT   LOS  ANGELES 


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THE  SPIRIT 

THE  RELATION  OF  GOD  AND  MAN, 
CONSIDERED  FROM  THE  STANDPOINT 
OF  RECENT  PHILOSOPHY  AND  SCIENCE 


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THE  MACMILLAN  CO.  OF  CANADA,  Ltd. 

TORONTO 


THE  SPIRIT 

THE  RELATION  OF  GOD  AND  MAN, 
CONSIDERED  FROM  THE  STANDPOINT 
OF  RECENT  PHILOSOPHY  AND  SCIENCE 


BY 

A.  SETH  PRINGLE-PATTISON,  LL.D.,  D.C.L. 

J.  A.  HADFIELD,  M.A.,  M.B. 

C.  A.  ANDERSON  SCOTT,  M.A. 

C.  W.  EMMET,  B.D. 

A.  CLUTTON-BROCK 

AND  OTHERS 


EDITED  BY 
B.  H.  STREETER,  M.A. 

Fellow  of  Queen's  College,  Oxford,  Canon 
Residentiary  of  Hereford 


J13eto  gork 

THE  MACMILLAN  COMPANY 
1925 


All  riyhlt  re$erved 


Copyright,  1919, 

Bt  the  macmillan  company. 


Set  up  and  electrotyped.    Published  December,  1919.    Reprinted 
September,  1925. 


miNTBD  IN  THE   UNITED  STATES  OF  AMERICA  BY 
THE   BERWICK    &   SMITH   CO 


3T 


"  My  wish  is  that  I  may  perceive  God,  whom  I  find  everywhere  in 
the  external  world,  in  like  manner  within  and  inside  me." 

Kepler. 

"  I  cannot  but  think  that  the  reformation  in  our  day,  which  I  expect 
to  be  more  deep  and  searching  than  that  of  the  sixteenth  century,  will 
turn  upon  the  Spirit's  presence  and  life,  as  that  did  upon  the  Justifica- 
tion by  the  Son." 

F.  D.  Maurice. 

"  The  traditional  doctrine  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  neglected  by  the  early 
theologians  of  the  Church,  even  when  the  creeds  were  still  in  the 
formative  period  of  their  existence,  has  remained  until  this  day  in  the 
background  of  inquiry,  both  for  the  theologians  and  for  the  philoso- 
phers. A  favourite  target  for  hostile,  although  often  inarticulate, 
criticism  on  the  part  of  the  opponents  of  tradition,  and  a  frequent 
object  of  reverential,  but  confessedly  problematic  and  often  very  vague, 
exposition  on  the  part  of  the  defenders  of  the  faith, —  the  article  of  the 
creed  regarding  the  Holy  Spirit  is,  I  believe,  the  one  matter  about 
which  most  who  discuss  the  problem  of  Christianity  have  least  to  say 
in  the  way  of  definite  theory.  Yet,  if  I  am  right,  this  is,  in  many 
respects,  the  really  distinctive  and  therefore  the  capital  article  of  the 
Christian  creed,  so  far  as  that  creed  suggests  a  theory  of  the  divine 
nature.  This  article,  then,  should  be  understood,  if  the  spirit  of 
Christianity,  in  its  most  human  and  vital  of  features,  is  to  be  under- 
stood at  all.  And  this  article  should  be  philosophically  expounded  and 
defended,  if  anv  distinctively  Christian  article  of  the  creed  is  to  find 
a  foundation  in  a  rationally  defensible  metaphysical  theory  of  the 
universe." 

Professor  Royce  of  Harvard. 


^:8i8ii2 


CONTENTS 


INTRODUCTION 


I.  IMMANENCE  AND  TRANSCENDENCE 


PAGE 


By  A.  Seth  Pringle-Pattison,  LL.D.,  D.C.L.,  Fellow 
of  the  British  Academy,  Professor  of  Logic  and 
Metaphysics  in  the  University  of  Edinburgh,  Au- 
thor of  'The  Idea  of  God  in  the  Light  of  Recent 
Philosophy,'  etc. 


II.  GOD  IN  ACTION 

By  Lily  Dougall,  Author  of  'Pro  Christo  et  Ecclesia* 
'Christus  Futurus,'  'The  Practice  of  Christianity' 
etc 25 

III.  THE  PSYCHOLOGY  OF  POWER 

By  Captain  J.  Arthur  Hadfield,  M.A.  (Oxon.), 
M.B.  Edin.),  Ashhurst  Neurological  War  Hospital, 
Oxford 68 

IV.  WHAT  HAPPENED  AT  PENTECOST 

By  C.  A.  Anderson  Scott,  M.A.,  D.D.,  Professor  of 
the  New  Testament  at  Westminster  College,  Cam- 
bridge, Author  of  'Dominus  Nostier,'  Commentary 
on  Revelation  in  'Century  Bible,'  etc.       .         .         .        115 

V.  THE  PSYCHOLOGY  OF  GRACE: 
HOW  GOD  HELPS 

By  C.  W.  Emmet,  R.D.,  J'icar  of  West  Hendred, 
Examining  Chaplain  to  the  Bishop  of  Oxford, 
Author  of  'The  Esrhntological  Questions  in  the 
Gospels'  'The  Epistle  to  the  Galatians'  (Readers' 
Commentary) ,    'Conscience,    Creeds,    and    Critics,' 

^'^ 157 

vii 


vi"  CONTENTS 

VI.  THE  PSYCHOLOGY  OF  INSPIRA- 
TION:  HOW  GOD  TEACHES 


PAcr, 


By  C,  W.  Emmet,  B.D 195 

VII.  THE  LANGUAGE  OF  THE  SOUL: 
SOME  REFLECTIONS  ON  THE 
CHRISTIAN  SACRAMENTS 

By  Lily  Dougall 223 

VIII.  SPIRITUAL  EXPERIENCE 
By  A.  Clutton-Brock 277 

IX.  SPIRIT  AND  MATTER 
By  A.  Clutton-Brock 309 

X.  CHRIST  THE  CONSTRUCTIVE 
REVOLUTIONARY 

By  B.  HiLLiMAN  Streeter,  M.A.,  Hon.  D.D.  Edin., 
Fellow  of  Queen's  College,  Oxford;  Canon  Resi- 
dentiary of  Hereford;  Editor  of  'Foundations' 
'Concerning  Prayer,'  'Immortality  '  'God  and  the 
Struggle  for  Existence' ;  Author  of  'Restatement 
and   Reunion 345 

Index  of  Subjects 369 

Index  of  Proper  Names     .,:.,...       375 


INTRODUCTION 

If  the  advance  of  knowledge  has  long  ago  made  bank- 
rupt the  crude  supernaturalism  of  traditional  Christian- 
ity, it  seems  well  on  the  way  towards  discrediting  no 
less  completely  the  crude  materialism  of  Victorian  sci- 
ence. Supported  by  the  prestige  of  men  justly  famed 
for  epoch-making  discoveries,  the  philosophical  system 
known  as  Scientific  Materialism  could  for  a  long  while, 
in  the  popular  view,  hold  its  own  against  a  stream  of 
continual  protest  from  the  side  of  Metaphysics,  Ethics 
and  Aesthetics.  But  now  that  these  protests  are  being 
reinforced  by  the  latest  investigations  in  Biology,  Physi- 
ology, and  especially  Psychology,  the  case  is  altered. 

The  idea  that  mechanism  is  an  adequate  explanation 
of  life  and  that  consciousness  is  a  bye-product  of  the 
dance  of  atoms,  is  one  intrinsically  so  incredible  that 
it  could  secure  general  accentance  only  If  supported  bv 
a  consensus  of  the  leaders  of  thought.  Accordingly  of 
recent  years  the  mind  of  the  age  has  been  movinfj  to- 
wards a  more  vitalistic  conception  of  the  nature  of  the 
Power  behind  phenomena  —  a  conception  of  which, 
perhaps,  the  happiest  expression  Is  Boutroux's  vague 
but  impressive  formula  "  The  Beyond  that  is 
Within."  There  are  few,  however,  who  pause  to 
consider  how  far  this  is  identical,  how  far  diverse,  from 
that  conception  of  the  Spirit  as  the  active  Indwellino: 
of  the  transcendent  Divine  In  whom  "  we  live  and 
move  and  have  our  being  "  which  dazzled  the  minds  of 
a  St.  Paul  or  a  St.  John. 

F.sscntially  the  t\A'o  conceptions  arc  the  same  —  but 

with  one  Important  difference.     The  earlv  Christian  Is 

more  vivid,  more  vital,  more  definite.      But  this  defi- 

Ix 


X  INTRODUC'l  ION 

niteness  is  precisely  the  element  in  it  which  modern 
thought  regards  as  unwarranted  —  and  up  to  a  point 
the  objection  is  well  founded.  The  dcliniteness  which 
traditional  Theology  has  given  to  the  concept  of  the 
Spirit  is  a  definiteness  of  the  wrong  kind.  On  the  one 
hand,  the  Holy  Ghost  of  the  classical  theology  is  a  scho- 
lastic abstraction.  On  the  other,  if  we  turn  from  that 
to  popular  Christianity  of  the  evangelical  type,  we  find 
indeed  a  conception  of  the  Spirit  which,  through  its 
connection  with  a  moving  religious  experience,  is  in- 
deed the  reverse  of  abstract,  but  which  is  still  definite 
with  a  definiteness  of  the  wrong  kind.  For  only  cer- 
tain types  of  experience  are  given  spiritual  significance, 
and  no  attempt  is  made  to  relate  this  experience  to  a 
thought-out  philosophy  of  the  universe.  It  is  not 
therefore  surprising  that  It  should  sometimes  lead  to 
narrowness  of  outlook  and  a  tendency  to  value  religious 
emotion  for  its  own  sake. 

In  religious  discussions  the  question  is  often  raised 
whether  *'  definiteness  of  the  wrong  kind  "  may  not 
after  all  be  better  than  a  "  general  vagueness."  The 
question  is  purely  academic.  Practical  men  do  not 
waste  time  in  debating  which  of  two  evils  is  the  worse, 
unless  and  until  it  has  become  clear  that  another  and  a 
more  satisfactory  alternative  is  not  forthcoming. 
When  definiteness  of  the  right  kind  is  in  sight  it  is  folly 
to  rest  content  until  it  is  attained.  And  it  can  be  at- 
tained. The  relation  of  religion  and  the  creative 
thought  of  the  day  is  quite  different  now  from  what  it 
was  fifty,  or  even  fifteen,  years  ago.  On  the  one  side, 
the  spirit  of  scientific  inquiry  has — it  must  be  con- 
fessed, only  after  a  hard  struggle  —  firmly  established 
itself  In  Christian  Theology;  on  the  other,  the  leaders 
of  the  world's  thought  have  discovered  that  no  philos- 
ophy can  hold  water  which  has  not  sympathetically 
studied,  and  In  Its  system  found  a  place  for,  the  his- 
torical and  psychological  phenomena  in  which  religion 
has   found  expression.     After   centuries  of  bickering. 


INTRODUCTION  xi 

Religion  and  Science  at  last  have  shaken  hands —  and 
if  only  they  would  go  a  step  farther  and  become  fast 
friends,  they  could,  by  pooling  their  resources,  regene- 
rate the  world. 

The  Scholastic  Theology,  considered  in  relation  to 
its  own  age  and  the  social  and  intellectual  develop- 
ments of  its  own  time,  is  one  of  the  greatest  monuments 
of  human  genius.  But  the  survival  of  what  is  really, 
though  often  unconsciously,  the  Scholastic  standpoint 
has  forced  upon  the  Church  a  timid  and  defensive  atti- 
tude towards  all  new  discovery.  Worse  still,  it  has 
erected  an  artificial  barrier  which  has  fenced  off  modern 
thinkers  from  the  p-reatest  spiritual  tradition  in  the 
world's  history.  It  is  not  sufficiently  realised  that  the 
divorce  between  the  Church  and  the  living  thought  of 
the  day  has  impoverished  Philosophy  as  much  as  it  has 
enfeebled  the  Church. 

The  promise  of  a  way  out  of  the  present  impasse 
would  seem  to  lie  in  a  re-examination  of  the  conception 
of  the  Spirit  —  considered  as  God  in  action  —  in  the 
light  alike  of  the  religious  experience  and  theological 
reflection  of  the  Christian  Church  throughout  the  ages, 
and  of  present-day  movements  in  Philosophy,  Psychol- 
ogy, and  Art.  In  the  way,  however,  of  such  an  enter- 
prise is  one  outstanding  difficulty.  Nobody  can  rea- 
sonably hope  to  produce  work  of  any  degree  of  orig- 
inality in  any  subject  unless  he  has  devoted  to  it  the 
concentrated  study  of  many  years;  and  no  one  person 
can  have  done  this  to  all  the  subjects  vitally  connected 
with  the  present  quest.  Accordingly  the  method  of  in- 
vestigation pursued  has  been  the  same  as  that  used  in 
the  preparation  of  the  books  Foundations,  Concerning 
Prayer,  and  Immortality}  A  series  of  conference-re- 
treats, which  the  majority  of  contributors  were  able  to 
attend,  supplemented  by  individual  discussion  for  mu- 
tual criticism  and  information,  has  made  it  possible 
gradually  to  focus  on  a  single  point  the  results  of  a  first- 

1  The  method  is  described  at  sfreatcr  length   in   Immortality,  pp.  x.-xiii. 


xil  INTRODUCTION 

hand  study,  not  only  of  Philosophy,  Psychology,  and 
the  theory  of  Art,  but  of  the  relevant  branches  of  mod- 
ern scientilic  Theology. 

It  should  perhaps  be  added  that  the  Holy  Spirit 
formed  the  subject  of  discussion  at  a  joint  retreat  of 
the  Anglican  and  Free  Church  Fellowships  at  taster 
1 9 17,  at  which  several  of  the  contributors  to  this  vol- 
ume were  present,  and  some  read  papers.  And  this 
book  owes  not  a  little  to  that  discussion,  and  still 
more  to  the  insight  into  the  meaning  and  possibilities 
of  spiritual  fellowship  gained  at  this  and  at  similar 
gatherings. 

The  Essays  form  a  continuous  series  the  order  of 
which  is  self-explanatory  —  with  one  exception.  The 
Essay  on  "  Spirit  and  Matter  "  by  Mr.  Clutton-Brock 
opens  with  an  argument  for  the  existence  of  spirit  di- 
rected against  the  materialistic  affirmation  that  matter 
is  the  only  reality.  Logically  this  argument  should 
have  come  very  early  In  the  book.  But  the  Essay  in 
which  It  occurs  and  the  Essay  by  the  same  author  which 
precedes  it  present,  if  taken  together,  a  constructive 
discussion  of  Spirit  from  the  standpoint  of  Aesthetics 
which  seems  most  appropriately  placed  In  the  later  po- 
sition. 

To  sum  up,  this  volume  Is  an  attempt  to  put  forward 
a  conception  of  the  Spirit  of  God  which  Is  definite  but 
not  scholastic,  and  which  is  capable  of  affording  an  In- 
tellectual basis  both  for  a  coherent  Philosophy  of  the 
universe  and  for  a  Religion  passionate  and  ethical,  mys- 
tical and  practical.  Of  the  success  of  the  attempt  It 
is  not  for  the  authors  to  judge;  but  even  to  fail  in  a 
great  task  is  to  make  the  way  easier  for  those  who 
follow. 

B.  H.  S. 
CuTTS  End,  Cumnor, 
September  9,  19 19. 


IMMANENCE  AND  TRANSCENDENCE 

BY 

A.  SETH  PRINGLE-PATTISON,  LL.D.,  D.C.L. 

FELLOW    OF    THE     BRITISH    ACADEMY 

PROFESSOR    OP    LOGIC    AND    METAPHYSICS    IN    THE    UNIVERSITY    OF    EDINBURGH 
AUTHOR   OF    "  THE    IDEA    OF   GOD    IN    THE    LIGHT    OF    RECENT    PHILOSOPHY,"    ETC. 


SYNOPSIS 

The  question  of  immanence  or  transcendence  is  a  fundamental  issue  in 
rclipious  pliilosophv,  and  the  central  doctrines  of  Christian  theology  are 
in  the  main  directed  towards  a  satisfactory  solution. 

A  purely  immancntal  view  of  the  tlivine  is  equivalent  to  a  pantheism 
which  equates  God  and  nature,  to  the  extent  of  holding  that  God  is 
present  equally  in  everything.  Such  a  view  leaves  no  room  for  moral 
distinctions,  or  indeed  for  any  distinction  of  higher  and  lower;  every- 
thing just  as  it  exists  is  equally  divine  and  therefore  equally  perfect. 
On  the  other  hand,  the  conception  of  God  as  a  purely  transcendent 
and  extra-mundane  Being  fails  to  realise  His  activity  as  indwelling 
Spirit.  In  the  history  of  religious  thought  such  a  theory  is  known  as 
Deism.  It  is  exemplified  in  the  rigid  monotheism  of  the  Hebrew  re- 
ligion and  still  more  in  Mohammedanism.  In  the  Psalms  the  pity  of 
God  is  compared  to  that  of  a  father  for  his  children,  but  there  is  a  gulf 
between  the  sonship  of  man  as  thus  conceived  and  as  it  is  conceived, 
for  example,  in  the  Gospel  of  St.  John. 

Looked  at  philosophically,  and  apart  from  the  obsolete  terminology 
in  which  it  is  expressed,  the  Christian  doctrine  of  the  Incarnation, 
developed  by  the  speculative  theologians  of  the  Eastern  Church  on  the 
basis  of  the  older  doctrine  of  the  Logos,  may  be  regarded  as  an  attempt 
on  a  grand  scale  to  harmonise  the  ideas  of  immanence  and  transcen- 
dence. The  inmost  nature  of  God  as  self-giving  Love  is  taken  to  be 
revealed  in  the  human  life  and  death  of  Jesus:  "he  that  hath  seen  me 
hath  seen  the  Father."  And  in  the  complementary  conception  of  the 
indwelling  and  ever-active  Spirit  (originally  identified  with  the  eternal 
Logos),  it  is  implied  that  the  presence  of  the  divine  is  not  limited  to 
any  one  age  or  individual.  But  popular  Christianity,  by  reinstating 
the  deistic  conception  of  a  purely  transcendent  and  impassible  Creator, 
and  b\'  stressing  the  divinity  of  the  Christ  in  such  a  way  as  to  make 
Him  no  longer  truly  man,  loses  hold  of  the  vital  significance  of  its 
own  central  doctrines.  A  God  thus  deistically  conceived  comes  to  be 
treated  merely  as  a  great  First  Cause,  and  the  idea  completes  its 
natural  evolution  in  modern  thought  as  the  Unknown  and  the 
Unknowable. 

It  is  important,  therefore,  for  religious  thought  to  rid  itself  of  a 
transcendency  which  seeks  to  magnify  God's  greatness  by  separating 
Him  from  the  world  and  making  Him  self-sufficient  and  complete 
without  it.  The  process  of  the  finite  world  is  not  extrinsic  to  the 
being  of  God ;  on  the  contrary,  it  may  be  said  that  only  in  the  process 
of  creation  and  redemption  do  we  touch  the  essential  secret  of  the 
divine  life.  The  word  creation  is  apt  perhaps  to  suggest  primarily 
the  calling  into  being  of  the  material  system  of  things.  But, 
philosophically  regarded,  the  material  world  is  an  abstraction  when 
sundered  from  the  conscious  lives  in  which  it  culminates;  it  is  but 
God's  medium  for  the  shaping  of  souls.  The  whole  meaning  of 
creation  lies  in  the  origination  of  conscious  spirits  to  whom  God  can 
reveal  Himself  and  from  whom  He  can  obtain  an  appropriate  response. 
Creation  in  this  sense  is  demanded  by  the  nature  of  God,  and  it  implies 
a  real  agency  and  responsibility  on  the  part  of  the  beings  created. 
Freedom,  and  to  that  extent  contingency,  is  thus  a  condition  of  the 
existence  of  a  finite  world  at  all  in  any  real  sense.  But  the  Spirit  of 
God  moving  the  hearts  of  men  is  the  guiding  and  formative  agency  in 


I     IMMANENCE  AND  TRANSCENDENCE    3 

the  process,  bearing  with  His  creatures  the  whole  stress  and  pain  of  the 
world  and  drawing  them  to  Himself  with  the  infinite  patience  of  love. 
Such  is  the  conception  of  the  divine  immanence  suggested  in  Christian 
thought.  Obviously  such  immanence  does  not  imply  the  sheer 
identification  of  the  being  and  life  of  God  with  the  process  of  human 
history  or  with  the  last  term  (so  far  reached)  of  any  finite  attainment. 
This  identification,  made  by  some  absolutist  philosophers,  stultifies 
itself,  for  it  fails  to  explain  even  the  progress  so  far  achieved.  The 
immanent  God  is  always  the  infinitely  transcendent,  and  it  is  the 
presence  of  the  Infinite  in  our  finite  lives  that  alone  explains  the 
essential  nature  of  man. 


IMMANENCE  AND  TRANSCENDENCE 

The  question  of  immanence  and  transcendence  touches 
the  fundamentals  of  religious  philosophy;  and  Christian 
theology  in  particular,  in  its  main  doctrines,  is  little  else 
than  a  persistent  attempt  to  reconcile  these  two  views 
of  the  divine  nature  and  action.      Let  us  first  try  to 
clarify  our  ideas  by  considering  the  two  views  in  their 
mutual  opposition  and  exclusiveness.     We  can  best  do 
this  by  reference  to  philosophical  types  of  the  two  ex- 
tremes.     A  purely  immanental  view  of  the  divine  is 
equivalent  to  a  sheer  Pantheism  in  which  no  distinction 
whatever  is   drawn  between  God  and  nature.     Spin- 
oza's equation  of  Deus  she  Natiira  is  often  taken  as 
the  typical  example  of  such  a  position,  but  there  are 
elements   in    Spinoza's   thought,    particularly   his    doc- 
trine of  "  degrees  of  perfection,"  which  carry  us  beyond 
it  and  point  to  a  more  satisfactory  theory.      Pure  im- 
manence or  pure  Pantheism  is  perhaps  better  exempli- 
fied in  those  phases  of  Eastern  thought  in  which  this 
doctrine    of    degrees    seems    entirely    absent.     "  The 
learned" — so   runs  a   typical  saying — "behold   God 
alike  in  the  reverend  Brahmin,  in  the  ox  and  the  ele- 
phant, in  the  dog  and  in  him  who  eateth  the  flesh  of 
dogs."      In  the  popular  religious  cults  in  which  this  atti- 
tude is  expressed,  the  immanental  unity  of  the  divine  is 
little  more  than  the  idea  of  a  teeming  nature,  and  passes 
easily  into  a  gross  polytheism,  whose  deities  represent 
and    consecrate    every    natural    force    and    tendency. 
Such  a  view  may  be  called  the  Lower  Pantheism  in  or- 
der to  distinguish  it  from  the  Higher  Pantheism    (in 
Tennyson's  phrase),  the  doctrine  of  the  divine  imma- 
nence which,  as  I  hold,  must  be  the  heart  of  any  true 
philosophy.     There  is  much,  however,  to  be  said  for 
a  suggestion  of  Dean  Inge's  that  the  name  Pantheists 

4 


I     IMMANENCE  AND  TRANSCENDENCE    5 

"  should  be  reserved  for  those  who  hold  that  God  is 
present  equally  in  every  part  of  His  creation."  ^ 
Pope's  often  quoted  phrases  in  the  Essay  on  Man, 
though  they  may  be  due  to  alliteration  and  antithesis 
rather  than  to  a  full  appreciation  of  their  philosophical 
meaning,  are  an  exact  expression  of  Pantheism  in  this 
sense : 

As  full,  as  perfect,  in  a  hair  as  heart  .  .  . 
To  Him  no  high,  no  low,  no  great,  no  small, 
He  fills,  He  bounds,  connects,  and  equals  all! 

In  such  a  view  there  is  no  place  either  for  aspiration 
or  condemnation.  Morality  and  the  most  specific  ex- 
periences of  religion  become  alike  unmeaning.  There 
is  neither  good  nor  bad,  neither  better  nor  worse;  for 
everything,  just  as  it  exists,  is  equally  divine,  and  there- 
fore equally  perfect.  Existence  and  perfection  become 
identical  terms. 

If  a  purely  immanental  doctrine  is  equivalent  to  Pan- 
theism in  the  sense  just  indicated,  a  doctrine  of  pure 
transcendence  might,  I  would  suggest,  be  fitly  styled 
Deism,  the  term  Theism  being  reserved  for  such  theo- 
ries as  attempt  to  mediate  between  the  two  extremes 
and  to  combine  the  truths  on  which  they  one-sidedly  in- 
sist, in  a  way  which  does  not  override,  but  on  the  con- 
trary serves  to  explain,  our  moral  and  religious  expe- 
rience. No  doubt,  etymologically,  the  two  terms,  De- 
Ism  and  Theism,  mean  exactly  the  same  thing,  and 
usage  varies.  Theism  is  used  by  some  writers  to  desig- 
nate a  position  distinguished  from,  and  to  some  extent 
opposed  to,  the  Christian  doctrine  of  God.  It  will  be 
found,  however,  that  when  7'heism  is  so  employed,  the 
doctrine  in  view  is  one  which  treats  God  merely  as  a 
transcendent  or  extra-mundane  Creator  without  recog- 
nition of  His  activity  as  indwclHng  Spirit.  Now  the 
term  Deism  acquired  just  this  specific  connotation  in  the 
beginning  of  the  eighteenth  century,  when  the  P'nglish 

1  Personal  Idealism  and  Mysticism,  p.  43, 


6  THE  SPIRIT  I 

Deists,  as  they  are  styled,  supported  what  they  called 
"  the  religion  of  nature  "  as  distinguished  from  the 
special  tenets  of  Christianity  as  a  "  re\ealed  "  religion. 
It  was  an  age  not  remarkable  either  for  speculative  In- 
sight or  for  depth  of  religious  feeling;  and  although  the 
Deists  were  duly  answered  by  orthodox  Churchmen, 
the  disputants  on  both  sides  accepted  the  same  external 
view  of  the  relation  of  God  to  the  world.  The 
Churchmen  were  just  as  far  from  being  "  Theists  "  In 
the  modern  sense  of  the  term  as  their  opponents  were. 
The  additional  dogmas  which  they  professed  to  accept 
were  accepted  not  from  the  analysis  of  religious  experi- 
ence but  on  the  authority  of  an  external  revelation;  and 
the  doctrines  were  powerless  therefore  to  transform 
the  defective  deistic  notion  of  God  with  which  they 
started.  Deism,  in  short,  rather  than  Christianity, 
was  the  common  creed  of  the  age.  It  seems  a  pity, 
therefore,  with  the  two  terms  at  our  disposal,  to  use 
them  indiscriminately  In  the  same  sense;  they  might  be 
usefully  specialised  in  the  way  I  have  suggested. 

On  the  large  scale  of  history  the  pure  transcendency 
of  the  divine  Is  exemplified  in  Judaism,  out  of  which 
Christianity  developed,  and  still  more  clearly  by  Mo- 
hammedanism, which  Is  a  conscious  reaction  against  the 
central  Christian  doctrine  of  the  Incarnation. 

The  monotheism  of  the  Hebrews  has  been  called  the 
religion  of  Sublimity  as  contrasted  with  the  religion  of 
Beauty,  the  nature-religion  of  the  Greeks.  Nothing, 
indeed,  can  surpass  in  sublimity  some  of  the  utterances 
In  the  Psalms  and  the  Prophets,  or  the  Book  of  Job. 
But  to  the  Hebrew  writers  the  sublimities  of  nature 
are  not  in  strictness  a  revelation  of  God;  they  are  used 
rather  to  enhance  the  measureless  and  Irresistible 
power  of  God  by  their  nothingness  before  Him.^  "  It 
is  he  that  sitteth  upon  the  circle  of  the  earth,  and  the 
inhabitants  thereof  are  as  grasshoppers.  .  .  .  Behold, 
the  nations  are  as  a  drop  in  the  bucket,  and  are  counted 

1  Cf.   Caird's  Evolution   of  Religion,   i.    385. 


I     IMMANENCE  AND  TRANSCENDENCE    7 

as  the  small  dust  of  the  balance:  behold,  he  taketh  up 
the  isles  as  a  very  little  thing  (Isaiah  xL).  "  He  look- 
cth  on  the  earth  and  it  trembleth:  he  toucheth  the  hills 
and  they  smoke"  (Ps.  civ.  32).  "The  voice  of  the 
Lord  breaketh  the  cedars;  yea,  the  Lord  breaketh  the 
cedars  of  Lebanon  (Ps.  xxix.).  "  The  earth  saw  and 
trembled.  The  hills  melted  like  wax  at  the  presence  of 
the  Lord"  (Ps.  xcvii.).  Omnipotence  which  creates 
and  destroys  with  a  word,  enthroned  above  the  heavens, 
immeasurably  remote  from  the  thoughts  and  ways  of 
men,  an  absolute  Will  with  something  of  the  arbitrari- 
ness and  irresponsibility  of  an  Eastern  despot  —  such 
are  perhaps  the  foundational  elements  of  the  Jewish 
conception.  "  By  the  word  of  the  Lord  were  the  heav- 
ens made,  .  .  .  He  spake  and  it  was  done"  (Ps. 
XXXV.).  "He  commanded  and  they  were  created" 
(Ps.  cxlviii.).  "  I  form  the  light  and  create  darkness; 
I  make  peace  and  create  evil;  I,  the  Lord,  do  all  these 
things.  .  .  .  Woe  unto  him  that  striveth  with  his 
Maker  !  Let  the  potsherd  strive  with  the  potsherds  of 
the  earth.  Shall  the  clay  say  to  him  that  fashioneth 
it,  what  makest  thou  ?  "  ( Isaiah  xlv. ) . 

The  history  of  Jewish  religion  is  the  record  of  the 
process  by  which  the  original  conception  of  a  vengeful 
tribal  deity,  in  very  truth  a  Lord  of  Hosts,  a  God  of 
battles,  was  purified  into  this  lofty  monotheism  without 
weakening  the  national  faith  in  Jehovah  as  the  guide 
and  protector  of  His  people.  "  The  God  of  Heaven," 
"  the  God  of  the  whole  earth,"  is  still  in  a  special  sense 
"  the  God  of  Israel,"  the  redeemer  of  His  chosen  peo- 
ple; and  the  realisation  of  this  relationship  prevents  the 
sheer  transcendency  of  the  divine  from  producing  its 
full  effect.  At  the  same  time,  the  higher  conception  of 
God  implies  a  rising  above  mere  nationalism:  the  bond 
between  Jehovah  and  His  chosen  people  is  thought  of 
as  founded  in  righteousness  and  obedience.  As  this  is 
deepened  and  spiritualised  in  the  prophetic  teaching, 
the   national   relationship  becomes   also   an   individual 


8  THE  SPIRIT  I 

relationship  between  the  worshipper  and  his  God, 
which  gives  us  in  the  Psalms  and  the  Prophets  some  of 
the  most  intimate  expressions  of  devotional  feeling. 
1  he  distance  is  partially  annulled:  "  The  Lord  is  nigh 
unto  them  that  are  of  a  broken  heart"  ( Ps.  xxxiv.). 
"  For  thus  saith  the  high  and  lofty  One  that  inhabiteth 
eternity,  whose  name  is  Holy:  I  dwell  in  the  high  and 
holy  place,  with  him  also  that  is  of  a  humble  and  con- 
trite spirit  "  (Isaiah  Ivii.  15).  "  Like  as  a  father  pit- 
ieth  his  children,  so  the  Lord  pitieth  them  that  fear 
him."  But  the  very  thought  of  the  fatherly  pity  is 
linked  with  that  of  the  infinite  contrast  between  the 
divine  and  the  human:  it  is  the  reflection  on  human 
frailty  and  transience  that  calls  it  forth.  "  For  he 
knoweth  our  frame;  he  remembereth  that  we  are  dust. 
As  for  man,  his  days  are  as  grass:  as  a  flower  of  the 
field,  so  he  flourisheth.  For  the  wind  passeth  over-  it, 
and  it  is  gone;  and  the  place  thereof  shall  know  it  no 
more  "  (Ps.  ciii.).  Pity  may  be  akin  to  love,  but  it  is 
not  quite  the  same  thing,  and  this  fatherhood  Is  still  far 
removed  from  that  Implied  In  the  sonship  of  which  St. 
John  speaks :  "  To  them  gave  he  power  to  become  the 
sons  of  God." 

"  The  Lord  looketh  from  heaven.  .  .  .  From  the 
place  of  his  habitation  he  looketh  upon  all  the  inhab- 
itants of  the  earth"  (Ps.  xxxili.  13-14).  "And  the 
Word  was  made  flesh  and  dwelt  among  us  "  (John  i. 
14).  These  two  sayings  measure  the  distance  that 
divides  the  Psalms  from  the  Fourth  Gospel,  and  that  is 
the  difference  between  the  Jewish  and  the  Christian 
doctrine  of  God  and  man.  As  it  has  been  well  said, 
"  the  transition  through  which  the  meaning  of  the  ex- 
pression '  Word  of  God  '  passes  in  the  Interval  between 
the  Old  Testament  and  the  Gospel  of  St.  John  contains 
in  It  a  whole  history  of  the  development  of  religion."  ^ 

It  is  no  part  of  my  purpose  here  to  trace  that  transi- 
tion in  detail,  even  If  I  were  competent  to  do  so.     It  Is 

1  Caird,   op.    cit.,   i.   386. 


I     IMMANENCE  AND  TRANSCENDENCE    9 

sufficient  to  refer  to  the  Hebrew  conception  of  the  Wis- 
dom of  God  as  developed  in  the  Apocryphal  books,  and 
the  fusion  of  this  in  Philo  of  Alexandria  with  the  old 
Greek  idea  of  the  Logos  or  indwelling  reason  of  the 
world.  As  philosophical  speculation  in  that  age,  exag- 
gerating the  Platonic  and  Aristotelian  tradition, 
stressed  more  and  more  the  transcendence  —  the  inac- 
cessibility, and  incomprehensibility  —  of  the  divine,  the 
need  became  clamant  for  some  principle  to  bridge  the 
chasm,  some  mediator  between  God  and  man.  Thus 
we  get  Philo's  doctrine  of  "  the  second  God,"  the 
Logos,  the  uttered  Reason,  the  first-born  Son,  the  Pla- 
tonic world  of  Ideas  conceived  as  a  creative  force 
through  which  God  formed  the  world,  conceived  also 
in  religious  language  as  the  high-priest  who  through 
his  intercession  creates  and  preserves  relations  between 
God  and  man.  The  Logos  as  the  indwelling  deity  is 
knowable,  while  God  Himself,  as  exalted  beyond  all 
predicates,  remains  unknowable.  The  Identification  of 
this  eternal  revelation  of  God  in  the  cosmos  with  the 
historical  revelation  of  the  character  of  God  and  His 
purposes  with  men  in  the  man  Christ  Jesus  was  the 
work  of  the  speculative  Christian  theologians  of  the 
second  and  third  centuries,  and  \Aas  fixed  as  the  doctrine 
of  the  Church  by  Athanasius  in  the  fourth.  That  doc- 
trine, as  elaborated  in  the  heat  of  controversy  and 
stated  In  the  creed  which  goes  by  his  name.  Is  apt  to 
appear  as  the  climax  of  Irrationality,  a  tissue  of  incredi- 
bilities, and  the  doctrine  of  Arius  comparatively  intelli- 
gible and  credible.  But  Arianism  Is  really  a  reversion 
to  the  idea  of  a  purely  transcendent,  an  Inaccessible  and 
Incommunicable  (jod;  and  the  Arlan  Christ,  a  demigod 
called  into  existence  to  create  the  world,  is  a  purely 
mythological  being,  neither  God  nor  man,  but  standing 
midway  between  the  two.  As  It  has  been  said,  "  the 
supernatural  being  whom  Arius  sets  forth  as  mediator 
between  God  and  man  does  not  unite  but  separates 
them,   for  he  serves  to  reveal  the  infinite   Impassable 


10  THE  SPIRIT  I 

gulf  that  lies  between  them.  .  .  .  Union  with  Deity 
according  to  such  a  theology  is  impossible."  '  On  the 
other  hand,  whatever  fault  we  may  find  with  the  phil- 
osophical terminology  in  which  the  Athanasian  position 
is  expressed,  the  position  is  broadly  based  by  Athana- 
sius  himself  on  a  philosophical  doctrine  of  immanence 
inherited  by  the  Alexandrians  from  Stoic  philosonhy, 
an  immanence  not  restricted  to  a  single  historical  indi- 
vidual. Because  God  is  immanent  in  the  world  as  a 
whole,  and  specifically  in  all  mankind,  Athanasius  ar- 
gues at  times,  there  is  nothing  contrary  to  reason, 
nothing  unworthy  of  the  divine,  in  the  idea  that 
He  should  manifest  Himself  pre-eminently  in  one 
man.^ 

The  controversy,  to  tfie  modern  mind  so  tedious  and 
futile,  which  subsequently  distracted  theologians  con- 
cerning the  union  of  the  two  natures  in  Christ  —  as  if 
they  were  two  substances  which  refused  to  mingle,  or 
two  consciousnesses  miraculously  maintained  in  water- 
tight compartments  within  a  single  human  organism  — 
depended  on  the  tacit  denial  of  the  spiritual  unity  as- 
serted in  the  Incarnation.  If  I  understand  the  doc- 
trine of  the  Church  aright,  it  teaches  that  just  in  so  far 
as  Jesus  is  perfect  man.  He  is  also,  and  thereby,  the  per- 
fect revelation  of  the  Father,  the  express  Image  of  His 
person.  Spiritual  things  must  be  spiritually  discerned. 
Clothed  in  an  obsolete  and  misleading  terminology, 
they  degenerate  into  materialistic  miracles  and  become 
a  stumbling-block  to  faith  instead  of  a  help  to  living 
piety.  Profound  religious  feeling  will  not  go  astray, 
but  popular  Christianity  is  probably  in  the  main  a  kind 
of  Arianism,  if  not  a  Tritheism.  It  is,  to  my  mind,  a 
great  misfortune  that  "  the  spirit  of  God,"  the  influ- 

1  Allen,  The  Continuity  of  Christian  Thtught,  p.  87. 

2  "  If  the  Word  of  God  is  in  the  universe  ...  if  it  beseems  Him  to  unite 
Himself  with  the  universe  and  to  be  made  knovi^n  in  the  whole,  it  must  beseem 
Him  also  to  appear  in  a  human  body  and  that  by  Him  it  should  be  illumined 
and  work.  ...  It  cannot  be  absurd  if,  ordering  as  He  does  the  whole  and  giv- 
ing life  to  all  things  and  having  willed  to  make  Himself  known  through  men, 
He  has  used  as  an  instrument,  a  human  body,  to  manifest  the  truth  and  knowl- 
edge of  the  Father.  For  humanity,  too,  is  an  actual  part  of  the  whole  "  (cf.  De 
Inoarnatione  Verbi,  chaps.  41  and  42). 


I     IMMANENCE  AND  TRANSCENDENCE  1 1 

ence  of  God  in  the  human  soul,  or,  as  it  is  alternatively 
called  in  the  New  Testament,  "  Christ,"  "  the  spirit  of 
Jesus,"  the  mystic  presence  of  the  Lord  in  the  hearts  of 
His  followers,  a  spirit  of  comfort  and  consolation  in 
their  loss,  revealing  the  mind  of  the  Master  whom  on 
earth  they  had  often  so  ill  understood,  and  so  guiding 
them  and  the  Church  after  them  into  all  truth  —  it  is, 
I  say  a  misfortune  that  expressions  like  these,  and  the 
spiritual  fact  for  which  they  stand,  should  have  been 
materialised  so  as  to  suggest  the  existence  of  a  third 
personality  or  agency  distinct  from  both  the  Father  and 
the  Son.  For  what  better  word  could  be  found  to  ex- 
press just  the  fact  of  divine  immanence  on  which  the 
possibility  of  communion  with  God  is  based,  the  illum- 
inative presence  of  God  operative  in  every  soul  which 
He  has  created?  The  conception  of  the  Spirit  is,  in 
fact,  the  final  and  complete  account  of  the  one  God  as 
the  Father  of  spirits,  their  Creator,  Inspirer,  and  Re- 
deemer. 

But  popular  Christianity  is  unable  to  assimilate  this 
sublime  mysticism,  and  falls  back  upon  a  deistic  concep- 
tion of  the  transcendent  and  impassible  Creator,  the  un- 
bending Judge  of  His  sinful  creatures;  and  so  we  arrive 
at  forensic  theories  of  the  Atonement  and  similar  doc- 
trines which  are  neither  ethical  nor  religious.  For  such 
a  mode  of  thought  the  doctrine  of  the  Incarnation  itself 
loses  its  significance  as  an  expression  of  the  essential 
nature  of  God  eternally  giving  and  revealing  Himself. 
It  becomes,  if  one  may  say  so,  almost  an  after-thought 
resorted  to  as  a  remedy  for  the  miscarriage  of  the  di- 
vine plan.  And  this  is  because,  for  a  deistic  theory, 
the  whole  process  of  the  world  —  its  creation  and  its 
redemption  alike  —  is  non-essential  to  the  life  of  God. 
But  the  course  of  modern  thought  shows  conclusively 
that  the  existence  of  such  an  extraneous  self-involved 
Deity  is  difl'icult  to  maintain,  and  that  the  notion  of 
such  a  Being  rapidly  loses  all  content,  and  consequently 
ceases  to  possess  any  vital  significance.      1  Ic  had  been 


12  THE  SPIRIT  I 

supposed  to  give  evidence  of  I  lis  existence  by  interfer- 
ing with  the  course  of  nature  from  time  to  time;  but 
with  the  growth  of  a  scientific  and  critical  temper  of 
mind  the  evidence  of  such  interferences  becomes  more 
and  more  suspect  and  the  interferences  themselves  less 
and  less  credible.      Hence  the   notion  becomes   atten- 
uated to  the  idea  of  a  Great  First  Cause,  and,  as  noth- 
mg  about  the  universe  seems  to  be  explained  simply  by 
postulating   a    divine    mechanic    to    set   it   agoing,    the 
Deism    with    which    the    eighteenth    century    opened 
passed,  tow^ards  its  close,  into  the  explicit  Atheism  of 
the  French  Encyclopaedists  or  the  shadowy  belief  on 
which  Hume  makes  theist  and  atheist  shake  hands  at 
the  conclusion  of  his  Dialogues  concerning  Natural  Re- 
ligion, seeing  that  the  proposition  on  which  they  agree 
"  affords,"  as  he  says,  "  no  inference  that  can  affect  hu- 
man life,  or  can  be  the  source  of  any  action  or  for- 
bearance."     In  more  recent  times,  no  doubt  with  more 
of  reverence  but  by  the  same  inevitable  logic,  we  see 
the  notion  reduced  to  that  of  the  unknown  God,  or.  in 
more  sweeping  phrase,  the  Unknown  and  Unknowable. 
This  characteristic  product  of  later  nineteenth-century 
thought  reappears  in  Mr.  Wells's  new  theology  as  the 
Veiled  Being,  and  Mr.  Wells  also  is  unable  to  discover 
any  religious  value  in  such  a  conception.      He  proposes 
accordingly  to  transfer  the  name  of  God  and  the  effec- 
tive qualities  of  deity  to  the  mythological  being  whom 
he  styles  the  Invisible  King —  a  being  purely  mytholog- 
ical, as  Mr.  Wells  presents  him,  but  one  in  whom  it  is 
easy  enough  for  others  than  Mr.  Wells  to  recognise,  in 
a  mutilated  form,  some  of  the  characteristic  features  of 
the  Christ  whom  the  author  of  the  Epistle  to  the  He- 
brews spoke  of  long  ago  as  the  "  Captain  "  of  our  sal- 
vation. 

It  is  highly  important,  therefore,  for  religious  think- 
ing —  and  for  philosophic  thinking  also  —  to  rid  itself 
of  a  transcendency  which  seeks  to  magnify  God's  great- 
ness by  separating  Him  from  the  world,  placing  Him  at 


I     IMMANENCE  AND  TRANSCENDENCE   13 

a  distance  from  it,  and  making  Him  self-sufficient  and 
complete  without  it.  Transcendence  in  the  only  im- 
portant sense  is  reached  on  other  lines,  as  I  hope  to 
show;  but  against  this  kind  of  transcendence  it  must  be 
contended  that  God  is  not  a  causa  remota,  who  created 
a  universe  once  upon  a  time.  He  is  its  ever-present 
sustaining  ground.  The  universe  of  the  finite  and 
everything  in  it  exists  from  one  moment  to  another 
only  because  He  perpetually  creates  it.  As  the  medi- 
aeval thinkers  taught,  to  sustain  in  existence  is  equiva- 
lent to  continuous  creation.  Moreover,  any  account  of 
creation  in  terms  of  mere  will  is  fundamentally  mis- 
leading. Yet  this,  I  think,  is  beyond  doubt  the  popular 
idea.  The  idea  of  creation  as  an  act  of  will  and  the 
idea  of  creation  as  taking  place  once  upon  a  time  are, 
indeed,  connected  in  the  closest  way.  According  to 
this  conception,  God  existed  in  all  His  perfection  and 
blessedness  before  the  creation  of  the  world:  He  chose 
to  create  a  world,  but  He  might  equally  have  forborne 
to  create,  and  his  abstention  would  have  made  no  dif- 
ference to  His  already  self-sufficient  being.  The 
world,  in  other  words,  is  in  no  way  organic  to  the  di- 
vine life.  It  is  something  that  happened,  but  it  is  an 
accident — in  the  old  logical  sense,  that  it  cannot  be 
deduced  from  the  essential  nature  of  God.  It  remains, 
as  one  may  say,  extrinsic  to  the  courses  of  His  being. 
Against  such  a  view  Spinoza  insisted,  I  think  rightly, 
that  God  is  the  cause  of  all  thngs  per  se,  not  per  acci- 
dens;  that  is  to  say,  it  belongs  to  His  very  nature  to  be 
Creator,  or,  in  more  modern  and  perhaps  more  re- 
ligious language,  God  is  essentially  the  self-revealing, 
the  self-giving,  and  (shall  wc  say?)  the  self-sacrificing 
God.  In  the  process  of  this  revelation  and  self-giv.-ng 
consists  His  own  very  being  and  His  eternal  joy. 
"  Verily,"  said  rhe  Hebrew  prophet,  "  thou  art  a  God 
that  hidest  thyself";  "  clouds  and  darkness,"  says  the 
Psalmist,  "  are  round  about  him."  But  the  crue  God 
is  no  (ictis  absconditus,  hidden,   withdrawn   from   our 


14  THE  SPIRIT  I 

sight,  but  a   Creator  that  eternally  utters  Himself  in 
and  to  His  creatures. 

The  common  objection  to  Spinoza's  way  of  putting 
it  —  especially  when  he  illustrates  his  thesis,  as  he  is  so 
fond  of  doing,  from  the  necessity  with  which  the  prop- 
erties of  a  triangle  follow  from  the  delinition  of  the 
figure  —  is  that  CJod  seems,  if  one  may  say  so,  to  have 
no  personal  choice  in  the  matter.  If  creation  is  a 
necessary  act,  then  it  is  a  process  which  seems  to  achieve 
itself  independently  of  His  will;  and,  instead  of  a  per- 
sonal life,  we  are  left,  it  is  said,  with  a  system  of  ab- 
stract necessity,  which  is  little  better  than  the  all-em- 
bracing mechanism  of  the  materialists.  But  such  a 
conception  of  necessity  as  an  external  compulsion  im- 
posed upon  the  divine  action,  a  kind  of  abstract  fate 
which  he  passively  carries  into  execution,  is  less  than 
just  to  Spinoza's  intention,  though  it  may  be  fostered 
by  his  illustrations  and  may  find  support  in  certain  fea- 
tures of  his  own  system.  For  the  necessity  of  which  he 
speaks  is  the  necessity  of  the  divine  nature  itself,  and, 
according  to  his  doctrine,  God  alone  enjoys  perfect 
freedom  because,  as  the  sole  self-subsistent  Being,  there 
is  nothing  external  to  Him  which  could  affect  His  ac- 
tion. To  perfect  knowledge  and  perfect  goodness 
there  can  be  no  choice,  in  our  sense  of  the  word,  as  a 
dubiety  between  alternatives  and  a  making  up  of  our 
minds  for  one  or  the  other.  He  must  act  in  every  case 
out  of  the  fulness  of  His  own  nature;  His  action  is 
simply  the  realisation  of  His  nature.  And  that  this 
is  the  idea'  of  action  —  this  and  not  the  so-called  free- 
dom of  choice,  characteristic  of  the  finite  will  —  we  ac- 
knowledge, when  we  envisage,  as  the  goal  of  our  own 
religious  endeavour,  the  "  service  "  which  is  "  perfect 
freedom,"  that  state  of  moral  being  in  which  our  ac- 
tions shall  respond  with  a  like  spontaneity  to  "  the 
mind  of  God,"  as  we  have  learned  to  know  it.  They 
become  the  expression,  in  other  words,  of  a  natu''e  at- 
tuned to  th?  divine. 


I     IMMANENCE  AND  TRANSCENDENCE  15 

We  find  more  thoughtful  theologians  recognising  ac- 
cordingly that  the  divine  will  must  in  every  case  be  an 
expression  of  the  divine  nature,  and  many  of  them,  fol- 
lowing out  this  line  of  thought,  have  accepted  the  idea 
of  creation  as  an  eternal  act,  which  means  that  God 
never  existed  without  a  world  in  which  He  was  mani- 
fested. But  although  many  would  go  thus  far,  I  have 
found  others  (and  perhaps  even  some  of  those  who 
would  accept  the  general  idea  of  an  eternal  creation) 
protesting  against  any  form  of  words  which  seems,  as 
they  say,  to  "  bind  up  "  God  and  the  world  in  a  rela- 
tion of  reciprocal  implication;  for  that  is,  they  say,  to 
make  God  "  dependent  "  upon  man  in  a  sense  which 
contradicts  the  notion  of  Him  as  the  self-subsistent  and 
infinitely  perfect  Being,  and  is  also  at  variance,  it  has 
been  objected,  with  the  feeling  of  utter  dependence  on 
our  part  which  has  been  defined  as  the  essence  of  re- 
ligion, and  which  is  at  any  rate  an  abiding  element  in 
religious  experience.  But  surely  this  is  to  strain  at  a 
word,  as  before  in  the  case  of  necessity,  and  to  import 
into  the  idea  of  "  dependence  "  a  meaning  which  could 
only  attach  to  it  if  the  finite  creatures  were  beings  exist- 
ing in  their  own  right,  and  capable  as  it  were,  of  enter- 
ing into  a  concordat  with  the  Infinite,  whereby  finite 
and  infinite  should  agree  to  support  one  another  in  ex- 
istence. It  may  be  freely  conceded  that  to  represent 
God  as  dependent  on  anything  ontologically  extraneous 
to  Himself  contradicts  our  whole  conception  of  Him; 
but  surely  nothing  of  the  i<ind  is  suggested  in  the  view 
I  have  maintained.  Whatever  ethical  independence  is 
conferred  upon  the  finite  creature,  he  is  sustained  in  ex- 
istence at  all  only  by  the  concursus  dei,  as  the  old  theo- 
hjgians  taught,  and  from  the  same  infinite  source  he 
draws  his  rational  and  moral  sustenance.  Both  for  the 
fact  of  his  existence  and  the  content  of  his  life  he  is  thus 
utterly  dependent,  and  the  most  heartfelt  expressions  of 
rehgious  feeling  are  full  of  the  acknowledgement  of 
this  dependence.      Obviously  it  is  not  in  th/s  sense  that 


i6  THE  SPIRIT  I 

God  can  be  said  to  depend  on  the  creature,  and  the 
word  "  dependent  "  is  none  of  mine.  But  I  say  that  in 
the  nature  of  the  case  we  can  have  no  knowledge  of 
God  except  in  relation  to  the  world  of  His  creatures, 
and  that  in  attempting  to  conceive  His  solitary  and  self- 
sufficient  existence  out  of  that  relation,  we  make  an  ab- 
straction for  which  we  have  no  warrant;  and  if  we 
think  we  are  thereby  framing  a  more  elevated  notion  of 
Him  we  deceive  ourselves;  on  the  contrary,  we  are  rob- 
bing Him  of  the  perfections  which  we  recognise  to  be 
most  divine.  Need  I  do  more  than  mention  the  Chris- 
tian conception  of  redemptive  Love?  That  is  surely 
no  "  accident  "  of  the  divine  experience,  but  the  very 
process  in  which  God's  life  consists.  If  we  believe  this, 
it  is  unmeaning  to  say  that  "  God's  nature  is  complete 
without  creation." 

But  it  is  important  to  be  clear  as  to  what  we  mean 
by  creation.  In  the  popular  use  of  the  term  I  think  we 
are  apt  to  have  in  our  mind  primarily  the  fabric  of  the 
material  universe,  and  hence  the  process  seems  compar- 
able to  that  of  turning  out  a  manufactured  article;  and 
the  product,  summoned  somehow  into  existence,  ap- 
pears to  stand  there  henceforth  independent  of  God,  as 
it  is  similarly  independent  of,  and,  as  we  say,  external 
to,  finite  spirits  like  ourselves  who  are,  on  this  view,  the 
result  of  a  subsequent  and  distinct  act  of  creation. 
But,  if  we  think  philosophically,  we  must  not  think  of 
creation  as  a  serial  process  in  which  a  material  system 
of  things  was  first  brought  into  existence,  to  which  con- 
scious beings  were  afterwards  added  as  its  denizens. 
Such  a  way  of  thinking  bestows  an  artificial  independ- 
ence upon  the  material  cosmos  and  lands  us  in  a  number 
of  difficulties,  as,  for  instance,  what  meaning  we  can  at- 
tach to  the  existence  of  unconscious  material  things  en- 
tirely out  of  relation  to  the  experience  of  conscious 
beings.  If  we  think  in  terms  of  process  (of  time)  we 
must  at  any  rate  remember  that  no  process  can  be  truly 
described  unless  it  is  viewed  in  its  completeness,  that  is 


I     IMMANENCE  AND  TRANSCENDENCE  17 

to  say,  in  the  light  of  its  final  result,  that  to  which  it 
all  leads  up.  And  the  process  of  the  material  universe 
is  towards  life  and  consciousness.     As  Browning  says: 

All  tended  to  mankind 
And,  man  produced,  all  has  its  end  thus  far: 
But  in  completed  man  begins  anew 
A  tendency  to  God.^ 

Viewed  thus,  the  whole  meaning  of  creation  is  seen  to 
be  the  origination  of  conscious  spirits;  for  to  them 
alone  God  can  reveal  Himself,  and  from  them  only  can 
He  obtain  a  response.  Everything  else,  the  whole  ma- 
terial fabric,  is  but  God's  medium,  as  it  were,  for  the 
shaping  of  souls,  and  we  need  not  involve  ourselves  in 
difficulties  by  thinking  of  it  as  something  created  inde- 
pendently and  standing,  so  to  speak,  on  its  own  basis. 
There  is,  in  strictness,  no  creation  —  no  finite  universe 
at  all  —  till  spirits  are  created.  And  if,  when  we  think 
of  creation,  we  think  primarily  of  the  origination  of 
conscious  spirits,  we  shall  not  be  tempted  to  relapse  into 
what  has  been  called  the  cabinetmaker  theory  of  crea- 
tion. For  spirits  are  not  things  that  are  "  made." 
The  bold  metaphor  of  the  Creed,  "  begotten  not 
made,"  would  indeed  seem  better  to  suggest  the  rela- 
tion of  every  potential  son  of  God  to  the  Being  whose 
image  he  bears  and  of  whose  nature  he  is  invited  to 
partake. 

But  when  we  speak  thus  of  creation  as  an  eternal 
act,  we  mean  simply  that  the  basal  constitution  of  the 
universe  (using  that  term  now  in  the  largest  sense)  is 
eternally  complete.  If  the  ultimate  definition  of  God 
is  Love,  then  the  divine  life  is  essentially  a  process  of 
self-communication,  a  life  in  and  through  others,  and 
it  is  a  contradiction  to  imagine  Him  existing  without 
objects  of  that  love.^  The  statement  is  not  meant  to 
imply  that  we  can  eliminate  considerations  of  time  (of 

1  Paracelsus,    ad   fin. 

2  Thr  dortrinr  of  the  eternal  Kcneration  of  the  Son  may  be  taken  as  symbol- 
ising this  ideal  necessity. 


1 8  THE  SPIRIT  I 

process,  of  effort,  of  co-operation)  when  we  think  of 
the  dealings  of  God  with  any  concrete  individual  or  any 
particular  race.  Certainly  it  does  not  mean  that  what 
we  call  the  history  of  the  world  has  no  meaning  for 
God,  inasmuch  as  the  end  is  for  Him  one  with  the  be- 
ginning, and  the  whole  predetermined  in  every  detail. 
That  would  be  to  belie  the  very  meaning  of  creation  as 
we  have  used  the  term;  for  it  would  mean  that  God  was 
the  sole  agent  in  everything  that  happened,  we  being, 
in  literal  truth,  God's  puppets.  Such  a  view  acts  like 
a  paralysis  upon  the  moral  life.  Creation,  as  de- 
manded by  the  nature  of  God,  implies,  on  the  contrary, 
a  real  independence,  a  real  agency  and  responsibility,  on 
the  part  of  the  beings  created.  As  a  matter  of  fact, 
such  beings  are  not  turned  out  like  ready-made  articles; 
they  are  rather  given  an  opportunity  of  making  them- 
selves. Freedom,  and  to  that  extent  contingence,  is 
therefore  a  condition  of  there  being  a  finite  world  in 
any  real  sense  at  all.  The  Spirit  of  God  moving  in  the 
hearts  of  men  is  the  guiding  and  formative  agency  in 
the  process,  operating  not  as  a  natural  force  that  over- 
bears opposition,  but  as  an  inward  illumination,  draw- 
ing them  with  the  infinite  patience  of  love.  If  we  be- 
lieve in  the  omnipotence  of  love,  the  victorious  issue 
may  be  secure  —  secure,  that  Is  to  say,  In  the  long  run 
and  in  general  outline  —  but  nowise  determined  as  to 
the  details  of  Its  realisation  in  individual  lives  or  com- 
munities, and  perhaps  not  even  certain  of  gathering  all 
the  sheep  Into  the  fold,  so  strange  Is  the  power  of  self- 
determination  vested  in  the  finite  will.  If  God  is  not 
thus  active  in  the  time-process,  bearing  with  His  crea- 
tures the  whole  stress  and  pain  of  it,  the  Immanence  of 
the  Creative  Spirit  becomes  an  unmeaning  phrase. 
However  difficult  It  may  be  for  us  to  realise  the  rela- 
tion of  the  temporal  to  the  eternal,  no  solution  can  be 
true  which  simply  abolishes  the  one  or  the  other.  The 
time-process  must  be  rooted  In  an  eternal  reality,  but 
the  eternal  is  not  the  timeless.      It  must  be  conceived 


I     IMMANENCE  AND  TRANSCENDENCE  19 

as  somehow  comprehending  the  temporal  as  an  element 
—  and  a  necessary  element  —  in  its  own  being. 

It  should  be  almost  needless  to  add  that  all  this 
emphasis  on  the  essentially  creative  nature  of  God,  and 
the  immanence,  therefore,  of  God  in  His  universe,  must 
not  be  taken  to  mean  the  equation  of  the  divine  with 
the  process  of  finite  experience.  Such  a  sheer  identifi- 
cation of  the  two  seems  to  be  implied  in  the  statements 
of  many  absolutist  philosophies.  Take  Hegel's  sys- 
tem, for  example.  Hegel  traces  in  his  Philosophy  of 
Lazv  and  in  his  Philosophy  of  History  the  human  rec- 
ord in  these  different  spheres,  and  in  each  case  the  rec- 
ord of  gradual  advance  is  represented  as  the  process  by 
which  the  Absolute  attains  full  self-consciousness  — 
attains  it,  one  is  almost  ashamed  to  add  —  in  the  social 
and  political  structure  of  Europe,  and  of  Germany  in 
particular  —  at  the  opening  of  the  nineteenth  century. 
And,  similarly,  as  we  unroll  the  history  of  philosophy 
we  are  supposed  to  have  before  us  the  successive  stages 
by  which  God  arrived  at  a  knowledge  of  Himself,  com- 
plete knowledge  being  attained  in  the  Hegelian  philos- 
ophy with  which  Hegel's  record  naturally  terminates. 
The  convinced  Hegelians  of  the  first  generation  de- 
bated in  sober  earnest  what  the  further  history  of  the 
world  could  consist  in,  seeing  that  by  attaining  to  self- 
knowledge  in  the  philosophy  of  the  Master  the  world- 
spirit  had  already  reached  its  goal.  Such  sublime  self- 
satisfaction  is  perhaps  only  possible  to  certain  types  of 
the  German  mind,  and  it  hardly  needed  Lotze's  ridi- 
cule to  expose  the  inherent  absurdity  of  the  "  dialectical 
idyll  "  according  to  which  the  "  creative  cause  of  the 
universe  issued  from  its  darkness  into  the  light  of  man- 
ifestation only  by  the  narrow  path  of  earthly  nature, 
and  after  having  formed  man  and  human  life  again  re- 
treated into  infinity,  as  if  with  all  its  ends  accomp- 
lished." '  But  In  a  less  extreme  form  of  expression 
the  same  tendency  has  invaded  a  good  deal  of  modern 

1  Microcosmus,   i.   458    (English  translation). 


20  THE  SPIRIT  I 

philosophy.  Because  we  may  truly  say  that  God  Is 
manifested  in  the  mind  of  man  and  in  the  process  of 
human  history,  phih^sophers  pass  on  to  treat  the 
achievement  of  humanity,  taken  collectively,  as  the  sole 
and  sufficient  self-realisation  of  the  divine.  But  this 
extraordinary  deification  of  the  status  quo  —  of  man  as 
he  is  —  has  only  to  be  stated,  it  seems  to  me,  in  order 
to  condemn  itself.  It  means,  of  course,  the  denial  of 
any  divine  selfhood,  any  actuality  of  God  for  Himself, 
There  is  no  knowledge,  that  is  to  say,  in  the  universe, 
no  understanding  of  the  scheme  of  things  anywhere, 
more  comprehensive  than  that  which  works  itself  out 
in  laborious  patchwork  in  this  and  the  other  human 
brain;  no  goodness,  no  justice,  no  tenderness,  save  that 
which  springs  in  the  human  heart.  But  such  a  theory 
does  not  even  explain  the  status  quo  in  which  it  rests; 
for  to  accept  any  present  as  final  is  to  misread  the 
whole  nature  of  development.  If  the  indwelling  God 
is  just  man  as  he  is,  there  would  be  no  consciousness 
of  higher  and  lower,  no  ideal  set  before  us,  and  no 
progress  at  all  therefore  possible.  The  principle 
which  explains  human  progress  is  the  presence  of  God, 
and,  as  grounded  in  God,  that  progress  must  be  "  on 
and  always  on,"  for  no  finite  achievement  can  body 
forth  the  infinite  perfection.  Humility  deepens  with 
each  step  in  advance.  "  Not  as  though  I  had  already 
attained,"  says  the  Apostle,  "  either  were  already  per- 
fect, but  I  follow  after  .  .  .  forgetting  those  things 
which  are  behind,  and  reaching  forth  unto  those  things 
which  are  before."  On  no  other  view  is  the  process  of 
human  experience  explicable. 

We  speak  naturally  in  this  context  of  God  and  man. 
But  we  have  only  to  lift  our  gaze  to  the  midnight  sky 
to  remember  that  we  have  no  right  to  restrict  the  reve- 
lation of  God  to  the  comparatively  recent  inhabitants 
of  this  humble  planet. 

Worlds  on  worlds  are  rolling  ever 
From  creation  to  decay. 


I     IMMANENCE  AND  TRANSCENDENCE  21 

And  in  these  worlds,  or  in  worlds  unseen  by  the  bodily 
eye,  multitudes  of  self-conscious  spirits  may  exist,  chil- 
dren of  the  same  Father  and  admitted  to  the  same  fel- 
lowship. "  Other  sheep  I  have  which  are  not  of  this 
fold."  The  words  spoken  by  the  Johannine  Christ  in 
a  narrower  reference  may  well  be  given  this  wider  ap- 
plication. Man,  therefore,  in  this  context  Is  merely 
representative  of  the  finite  spirit  wherever  found,  and 
among  those  other  spirits  many  may,  in  every  form  of 
spiritual  excellence,  vastly  surpass  mankind  as  we  know 
it.  But  whatever  range  beyond  range  of  experience 
and  achievement  may  thus  open  before  us,  nothing  is 
altered  in  principle  as  regards  the  relation  of  the  finite 
spirit  to  the  infinite  source  of  its  aspirations.  He  that 
has  gone  farthest  will  be  the  foremost  to  declare  that 
he  has  not  already  attained,  and  that  it  is  not  in  his 
own  strength  that  he  has  won  his  way  thus  far. 

To  return,  in  conclusion,  to  the  opposite  views  of  the 
divine  nature  and  action  which  we  set  out  to  consider, 
the  eternal  contrast  between  the  actual  and  the  ideal 
seems  to  me  to  furnish  the  natural  key  to  the  problem 
of  immanence  and  transcendence.  Transcendence  does 
not  mean  remoteness  or  aloofness.  The  distinction  it 
points  to  is  that  between  the  perfect  and  the  imperfect; 
and  by  perfection  we  do  not  understand  the  possession 
of  innumerable  unknown  attributes,  but  the  perfect 
realisation  of  those  very  values  which  we  recognise  as 
the  glory  and  crown  of  our  human  nature.  This  idea 
of  perfection  disclosing  its  features  gradually,  as  men 
become  able  to  apprehend  the  vision,  is  the  immanent 
God,  the  inspiring  Spirit  to  whom  all  progress  is  due. 
But  the  immanent  God  is  thus  always  the  infinitely 
transcendent.  The  two  aspects  imply  one  another.  A 
purely  immanental  theory,  as  we  saw  in  the  earlier  part 
of  this  paper,  means- the  denial  of  the  divine  altogether 
as  in  any  way  distinguis-hable  from  the  human,  and  in- 
volves, therefore,  the  uncjualificd  acceptance  of  every- 
thing just  as  it  is.      A  theory  of  pure  transcendence,  on 


22  THE  SPIRIT  I 

the  other  hand,  tends  to  leave  us  with  a  "  mighty  Dark- 
ness tilling  the  seat  of  power,"  for  only  so  far  as  God 
is  present  in  our  experience  can  we  know  anything  about 
Him  at  all.  It  is  the  inmianence  of  the  transcendent, 
the  presence  of  the  infinite  in  our  finite  lives,  that  alone 
explains  the  essential  nature  of  man  —  the  "  divine  dis- 
content "  which  is  the  root  of  all  progress,  the  strange 
sense  of  doubleness  in  our  being,  the  incessant  conflict 
of  the  lower  and  the  higher  self,  so  graphically  de- 
scribed by  St.  Paul  as  a  law  in  his  members  warring 
against  the  law  of  his  mind.  And  the  more  clearly  we 
identify  the  call  of  the  higher  with  our  true  self  the 
more  unfeignedly  do  we  recognise  the  illumination  of 
the  divine  Spirit.  Deus  illuininatio  mea — "In  Thy 
light  shall  we  see  light." 


II 

GOD  IN  ACTION 

BY 

LILY  DOUGALL 

AUTHOR    OF    "  PRO    CHRISTO    ET    ECCLESIA,"    &C. 


ANALYSIS 

The  Holy  Spirit  for  the  early  Christians  was  the  joyful  indwelling 
force  of  love  and  life  which  tliey  felt  to  be  God. 

Later  tlie  Spirit,  as  one  Person  of  the  Trinity,  was  regarded  as  God 
in  action  in  the  world  of  men. 

I.  The  Spirit  acts  always  in  accord  with  nature,  not  by  overriding 
natural  ways  and  laws. 

II.  On  this  view  consider  how  apparently  miraculous  or  supernatural 
religious  experience  may  be  understood  in  the  light  of  psychological 
law. 

Such  experience  considered  under  four  heads:  Inward  illumination; 
Inspired  utterance ;  Unusual  power  of  resisting  temptation  or  of  in- 
fluencing other  minds;  The  reception  of  specific  benefits  in  answer  to 
prayer. 

Such  experiences  may  be  shown  to  be  in  accord  with  psjxhological 
law. 

The  fact  of  free  will  does  not  result  in  man  acting  otherwise  than  in 
co-operation  with  natural  law:  nature,  we  conceive,  is  in  the  same  way 
God's  instrument  by  which  He  accomplishes  the  desire  expressed  in 
every  true  prayer. 

Religious  experience  is  evidence  of  God's  action  in  the  world,  because 
in  it  the  religious  instinct  gets  satisfaction,  not  because  the  method  of  its 
getting  satisfaction  is  magical  or  miraculous. 

III.  We  must  not  regard  all  that  happens  as  the  work  of  the  Spirit: 
He  works  always  for  good  and  opposes  evil. 

IV.  The  universal  good  for  which  the  Spirit  works  is  man's  perfect 
correspondence  with  environment,  i.e.  the  Kingdom  of  Heaven.  The 
universal  brotherhood  implied  in  this  does  not  come  with  the  mere 
process  of  the  ages;  it  depends  on  the  free  choice  and  sacrificial  work 
of  men. 

The  difficult>'  in  recognising  the  Spirit's  work  in  the  process  of 
development  arises  from  the  constant  sacrifice  of  the  individual  while 
the  Kingdom  lingers. 

But  the  fact  that,  through  human  development  of  that  self-sacrifice 
traceable  in  the  whole  biological  system,  the  value  of  the  individual  is 
increasingly  recognised,  indicates  that  the  Spirit  is  urging  on  this  value 
and  will  justify  it. 

The  adventure  of  world-creating  in  conscious  communion  with  the 
Spirit  brings  about  a  better  future,  while  it  affords  the  individual  who 
pursues  it  the  fruition  of  all  his  permanent  desires. 

Jesus  Christ  discovered  and  proclaimed  the  power  of  the  Spirit  to 
enhance  and  harmonise  all  life  and  so  to  bring  in  the  Kingdom  of 
Heaven. 


II 

GOD  IN  ACTION 

What  thought  and  feeling  rises  unbidden  in  us  when 
we  hear  some  one  speak  of  the  Holy  Ghost  or  the  Holy 
Spirit? 

In  some  it  Is  a  sort  of  wondering,  half-respectful  de- 
rision, such  as  we  all  feel  when  we  come  UDon  belief  in 
creeds  that  we  hold  to  be  outworn.  In  others  it  is  the 
simple  boredom  always  experienced  by  the  inferior 
mind  when  confronted  with  what  is  great  in  poetrv  or 
music  or  painting.  In  others,  again,  who  do  not  doubt 
that  the  term  signifies  a  great  realitv,  the  thought  of 
holiness  rouses  onlv  a  sense  of  repulsion.  For  them 
the  adjective  "  holy "  is  synonymous  with  "  forbid- 
ding " —  a  perfection  which  imperfection,  however 
well-intentioned,  may  not  touch  without  being 
"  thrust  through  with  a  dart." 

Yet  to  the  spirit  of  all  living  creatures  belong  such 
life,  hope,  health,  enterprise,  curiosity,  joy,  kindness, 
love,  as  they  may  know.  Stones  or  corpses  do  not 
know  these  affections;  therefore  it  is  to  the  spirit  in 
the  universe  that  life  and  love  belong.  The  associa- 
tions of  the  word  "  spirit,"  therefore,  ought  not  to  be 
dulness  or  fear.  It  will  be  said  that  to  spirit  belong 
also  animosities,  pride,  scorn,  cruelty.  True;  and 
these  also  have  been,  and  are  still,  attributed  to  such 
invisible  power  or  powers  as  many  worship.  Hence 
the  notion  of  "  taboo  "  —  a  notion  strongly  compact 
of  the  unapproachable,  the  irrational,  the  terrible. 
The  early  Christinns,  whatever  their  mistakes,  sins, 
ami  ignorances,  did  this  interesting  thing  —  they  took 
the  world  "  holy  "  —  which,  originally  having  its  roots 
in    taboo,    had   been    elcvatec    by   the   Old   Testament 

25 
« 


26  THE  SPIRIT  II 

prophets  to  mean  goodness,  awful  and  exclusive  — 
they  took  this  word  and  appropriated  it  to  the  Divine 
Spirit  which  made  for  fellowship.'  It  was  a  new  use 
of  the  word.  So  used  it  served  to  distinguish  the  In- 
dwelling force  they  felt  to  be  God  from  those  demonic 
forces  which  they,  In  common  with  their  world,  believed 
to  Inspire  men  with  animosities  and  diseases.  They 
were  hilarious,  these  early  Christians.  In  their 
records  we  come  constantly  upon  words  that  evince 
good  spirits.  Their  delight  In  a  new-found  spiritual 
Friend  triumphed  over  all  their  misfortunes.  They 
upset  the  world  with  their  joy  and  liveliness.  They 
had  the  same  sense  of  fellowship  and  enterprise  as 
have  the  men  of  a  regiment,  and  they  went  joyfully 
to  meet  persecution  as  men  certain  of  victory  go  joyfully 
to  battle.  They  felt  themselves  possessed  by  some 
external  force  of  love  and  life  which  filled  them  with 
beautiful  hopes  and  empowered  them  to  carry  out  their 
desires. 

After  that,  In  the  growth  of  the  creed,  we  get  the 
conception  of  the  Trinity;  but  all  that  we  are  here 
concerned  with  is  that  the  "  Holy  Spirit  "  Is  the  name 
given  by  Christians  to  God  in  action  in  the  world  of 
men. 

It  Is  essential  to  any  developed  religion  to  believe 
that  God  Is  a  Spirit  and  that  He  acts  In  the  world  of 
men.  To  attain  a  right  conception,  therefore,  of  the 
nature  of  the  Spirit,  and  of  His  action,  Is  the  most 
fundamental  need  of  religious  thought. 

In  this  connection  the  chief  questions  which  are 
exercising  the  minds  of  present-day  thinkers  are  the 
following:  — 

I.  Does  the  Spirit  act  In  accordance  with  nature,  or 
by  overriding  natural  ways  or  laws? 

II.  If  the  Spirit  works  through  nature,  how  may  we 
explain  apparently  miraculous  or  supernatural  religious 
experience? 

1  Cf.  Essay  IV.  p.  133. 


II  GOD  IN  ACTION  27 

III.  Are  all  things  that  happen  the  work  of  the 
Spirit?  or  does  He  work  for  good  and  oppose  evil? 

IV.  If  for  good  only,  what  is  the  nature  of  that 
good?  and  if  by  natural  processes,  how  may  man  attain 
to  natural  co-operation  with  Him? 

Spirit  and  the  Reign  of  Law 

Science  is  discarding  the  mechanistic  and  determinist 
conception  of  natural  consequence.  The  term  "  law," 
used  for  the  habits  of  whatever  acts  in  a  dependable 
and  explicable  manner,  is  ambiguous,  but  the  phrase 
"  laws  of  nature  "  is  so  engrafted  in  our  speech  that 
it  is  pedantic  to  avoid  it. 

The  modern  biologist,  although  believing  that  life 
is  governed  by  law,  describes  something  like  choice 
and  adventure  at  every  stage  of  development,  from  the 
amoeba  upwards.  The  psychologist,  who  long  ago 
discovered  that  the  reign  of  law  prevails  in  the  sphere 
of  mind,  is  still  able  to  treat  each  self  as  a  centre  of 
spontaneity.  Science  no  longer  compels  us  to  regard 
nature  as  an  iron-bound  system,  but  at  the  same  time 
insists  that  nature  is  entirely  dependable.  We  may 
perhaps  think  now  of  the  system  of  our  universe  as 
to  be  relied  on  as  the  actions  of  a  good  man  of  estab- 
lished character  are  to  be  entirely  relied  on  because 
we  know  no  motion  of  his  mind  will  be  eccentric.  It 
is  in  this  sense  that  we  use  the  term,  "  the  reign  of 
law,"  in  considering  its  relation  to  the  action  of  God. 

I.  Those  who  have  been  accustomed  to  teach  the 
religious  world  have  long  brought  forward,  as  proofs 
of  God's  existence  and  evidence  of  His  character,  cer- 
tain events  held  to  be  more  than  natural.  We  who 
love  God  have  been  taught  to  fear  that  the  world  may 
ignore  Him  if  He  docs  not  sometimes  override  nature. 
Yet  if  we  can  truly  trust  God,  we  shall  perceive  that 
there  is  nothing  to  fear  whatever  the  upshot  of  any 
truth-seeking.  Whatever  is  true  is  God's  way  of 
revealing  Himself;  we  may  fearlessly  seek  the  fullest 


28  nii:  SPIRIT  II 

knowledge  of  that  way,  even  though  that  involve  the 
sacriticc  of  some  favourite  tradition, 

A  child  taught  to  believe  in  the  existence  of  the 
ocean  because  he  has  heard  the  roar  and  murmur  of  its 
surges  when  he  puts  the  curling  shell  to  his  ear,  may 
naturally  suppose  that  the  ocean  itself  is  only  a  beauti- 
ful myth  when  the  acoustic  reason  of  the  surging,  throb- 
bing sound  of  the  shell  against  his  ear  is  first  explained 
to  him.  But  the  ocean  is  a  fact  too  large  and  insistent 
to  be  ignored.  And,  what  is  more,  the  relation  be- 
tween the  child's  delicate  sense  of  hearing  and  the 
echoing  of  the  shell  is  the  same  relation  as  that  between 
his  ear  and  waves  of  sound  made  by  the  surf  upon  the 
shore,  or  the  dance  of  the  waves  that  clap  their  hands 
to  the  winds  in  mid-ocean.  In  so  far  as  such  sounds  are 
music  to  him,  in  so  far  as  such  music  raises  in  his  con- 
sciousness images  of  beauty  and  thoughts  of  infinite 
spaces  and  wild  delights,  both  the  ocean  and  the  shell 
bear  the  same  relation  to  his  own  power  of  poetic 
interpretation.  The  only  reason  why  he  might  tempo- 
rarily doubt  the  existence  of  the  ocean  lies  in  the  beauti- 
ful but  erroneous  nursery  tradition  that  the  sea  sounds 
through  the  orifice  of  the  shell. 

It  is  a  fundamental  question  whether  in  certain  times 
and  conditions  w^e  can  think  of  God's  action  as  some- 
thing so  apart  from  and  different  from  the  ordinary 
working  of  nature  as  to  be  incalculable,  and  the  evi- 
dence of  something  of  w^hich  we  have  no  other  evidence 
—  as  tradition  teaches,  or  whether  we  may  believe  that 
God  works  in  the  world  only  by  the  qualities  and  powers 
of  the  creatures  and  things  in  the  world. 

It  is  well  that  we  should  realise  how  small  is  the  area 
that  has  ever  been  claimed  by  religion  for  God's 
miraculous  action.  E^ven  in  ancient  times,  when  no 
intellectual  difficulty  was  felt  in  admitting  the  direct 
visible  action  of  invisible  powers,  we  find  that  such 
action  was  only  assumed  with  regard  to  events  that 
appeared  extraordinary  and  not  otherwise  explicable. 


II  GOD  IN  ACTION  29 

And  from  the  earliest  times  the  progress  of  culture  and 
education  tended  to  restrict  the  area  of  divine  interpo- 
sition as  it  extended  the  area  of  human  knowledge  into 
the  working  of  nature.  This  tendency  to  restrict  the 
area  of  miracle  has  ebbed  and  flowed  with  the  enlighten- 
ment, and  the  more  or  less  emotional  temper,  of  the 
age.  We  are  all  aware  how  greatly  it  has  shrunk  in 
our  own  age  before  the  advance  of  modern  science. 
Lei;  us  ask  ourselves  how  far  an  orthodox  Christian  of 
today  and  a  modern  atheist  would  differ  as  to  the  evi- 
dence for  the  supernatural. 

First,  let  us  observe  that  the  word  "  supernatural  " 
is  used  by  the  orthodox  to  describe  a  larger  area  of 
experience  than  what  is  strictly  miraculous:  all  that  is 
miraculous  is  supernatural,  but  all  that  is  supernatural 
is  not  called  miraculous.  God's  supernatural  grace,  it 
is  said,  may  be  realised  only  as  subjective,  producing 
for  the  unbeliever  no  evidence  of  the  operation  of  any- 
thing extraneous  to  nature.  But  a  miracle  is  conceived 
as  taking  place  irrespective  of  human  expectation  or 
mood,  and  is  regarded  as  evidence,  valid  for  any  candid 
observer,  of  God's  supernatural  action.  The  area  of 
the  miraculous,  always  restricted,  dwindled  in  the  minds 
of  many  educated  Christians  at  the  end  of  the  last 
century  until  it  only  covered  the  Birth  and  Resurrection 
of  our  Lord,  and  other  miracles  of  the  New  Testa- 
ment. To  confine  God's  miraculous  activity  to  one  age 
and  country  was  found  to  be  rather  absurd  in  face  of 
the  many  millenniums  of  human  history  and  the  world's 
great  need;  accordingly,  those  who  believe  in  special 
miracles  have  tended,  in  the  last  two  decades,  to  in- 
clude again  some  of  the  alleged  miracles  of  Christian 
saints,  and,  in  modern  times,  such  events  as  sudden 
recoveries  from  disease  occurring  in  answer  to  prayer. 
Throwing  the  net,  however,  as  widclv  as  the  modern 
mind  may  dare  to  throw  it,  God's  miraculous  actions 
in  the  world  are  very  few  and,  for  the  non-Christian 
mind,  apparently  unimportant  in  comparison  with  the 


30 


THE  SPIRIT  11 


great  stream  of  events  whose  causes  are  discoverable. 
But,  as  already  noted,  the  area  alleged  by  the  orthodox 
to  be  covered  by  the  supernatural  action  of  God  Is  much 
larger.  It  covers  everything  that  may  be  considered 
the  result  of  the  grace  of  God  In  the  lives  of  Chris- 
tians, and  Its  reality  Is  evinced  to  the  faithful  In  certain 
exalted  moments,  in  their  conscious  participation  in 
prayer  and  worship,  and  especially  through  sacramental 
rites.  The  difficulty  about  this  conception  of  the  super- 
natural is  threefold:  (a)  the  area  of  what  is  considered 
divine  grace  in  the  Church  appears  small  by  the  total 
of  human  life  —  as  did  the  area  of  the  miraculous; 
and  (b)  such  results  of  supernatural  grace  as  can  be 
descried  In  the  Church  by  the  world  do  not  appear 
sufficiently  different  from,  and  more  Important  than, 
natural  processes  of  the  same  grace  outside  the  Church 
to  vindicate  a  religious  philosophy  based  upon  the  evi- 
dence they  afford  —  for  example,  to  the  eye  of  reason 
the  good  devout  person  Is  not,  take  him  all  in  all, 
much  better  than  the  good  and  earnest  agnostic,  and 
sometimes  not  as  good;  or  (c)  If,  as  some  Jesuit  au- 
thorities affirm,  God's  sacramental  grace  may  build 
up  a  supernatural  life  In  man  which  has  no  visible  out- 
come in  moral  character,  the  Author  of  such  grace 
appears  somewhat  indifferent  to  the  harm  its  subjects 
commit. 

If  by  "  supernatural  "  we  could  simply  mean  that 
which,  being  divine,  transcends  our  finite  conception 
of  nature,  while  It  also  interpenetrates  that  nature,  it 
would  be  quite  accurate  to  call  our  salvation  super- 
natural, for  the  main  and  outstanding  Idea  expressed 
by  the  Christian  doctrine  of  the  Spirit  Is  that  help 
comes  to  man  from  God  —  help  adequate  and  efficient 
from  the  Spirit  of  God,  which  is  other  than  man's  spirit. 
An  explanation  of  the  way  In  which  God's  Spirit  may 
be  thought  of  as  giving  help  to  man's  spirit  may  be 
found  in  another  Essay  in  this  book.^     Our  point  here 

1  Essay   V.   pp.    155-158. 


II  GOD  IN  ACTION  31 

is  that  the  help  does  not  originate  in  man,  nor  is  it 
planted  In  man,  like  a  seed,  and  left  for  him  to  de\"elop 
and  increase  by  his  own  efforts.  Man  can  help  him- 
self, of  course;  he  can  do  a  great  deal  for  himself  in 
every  way;  he  is  a  centre  of  life  —  which  means,  of 
origination,  of  the  choice  of  experience,  of  purpose,  of 
effort.  All  this  he  is  by  God's  initial  gift  of  life.  A 
sea-anemone  on  a  rock  is  a  definite  centre  of  life,  and 
has  within  itself  certain  powers;  but  the  tide  which 
comes  twice  a  day  to  bring  it  all  that  it  requires  for 
life  is  something  other  than  the  anemone;  and  yet, 
illimitable  as  is  the  onrush  of  the  ocean  over  the  small 
life,  it  brings  to  that  small  life  only  just  so  much  as  the 
creature  can  or  will  assimilate.  It  puts  forth  its  richly- 
coloured  tentacles  in  the  translucent  flood,  and  lives  by 
what  it  can  catch  of  the  water's  wealth.  So  is  the 
action  of  God's  Spirit  on  the  soul  of  man;  it  is  some- 
thing other  than  his  own  action.  Salvation  flows  over 
him  always  —  a  warm,  illimitable  river  of  life.  Man 
takes  from  it,  if  he  will,  what  he  can,  and  v/hat  he  can 
must  ultimately  depend  upon  what  he  will. 

It  is  this  otherness  of  God,  this  initiation  and  carry- 
ing out  of  efficient  help  by  God,  that  is  the  valuable 
truth  in  the  insistence  laid  by  many  on  the  supernatural 
element  in  our  salvation.  The  term  "  supernatural  " 
is,  indeed,  sometimes  used  to  express  this  "  otherness  " 
and  nothing  more.  But  if  this  be  the  meaning  of  the 
word  "  supernatural,"  then  we  require  another  word 
for  "  supernatural  "  in  its  ordinary  sense,  meaning 
something  which  overrides  the  order  of  nature.  Un- 
less we  hold  the  crudest  dualism  we  must  believe  that 
nature  is  the  manifestation  of  God,  and  that  God  has, 
by  the  creative  process,  produced  human  nature  "  for 
Himself,"  as  St.  Augustine  truly  preached.  If  nature 
in  God's  conception  and  purpose  be  the  creaturely  exist- 
ence which  develops  to  its  utmost  possibility  of  L^ood 
by  His  constant  friendship  and  aid,  then  such  aid  Is 
natural  in  the  sense  that  it  is  of  tlie  very  essence  of 


32  THE  SPIRIT  II 

true  natural  development.  To  call  it  supernatural  Is 
to  contuse  it  with  an  incompatible  theory  of  divine 
grace.  Indeed,  those  who  lay  most  stress  upon  the 
supernatural  character  of  the  divine  salvation  do  not 
mean  that  God  works  only  in  natural  ways.  They 
mean  that  God  has  come,  and  still  comes,  in  certain 
times  and  places,  to  operate  upon  man's  spirit  or  body 
or  upon  external  nature,  in  ways  that  cannot  be 
analysed  or  classified  by  physical  or  psychological 
science.  The  word  "  supernatural  "  is,  unfortunately, 
too  deeply  dyed  with  this  meaning  to  be  safely  used  in 
any  other. 

On  the  other  hand,  there  is  growing  up  a  school  of 
Christians  w^ho  believe  that  the  restriction  of  the  area 
of  what  is  taken  to  be  God's  supernatural  or  miraculous 
action  by  our  increasing  knowledge  of  natural  causes 
points  to  the  conclusion  that  God  always  acts  through 
nature,  and  that  nature  at  its  highest  and  best  is  always 
the  manifestation  of  God's  character  as  He  reveals 
Himself  to  us,  and  is  also  the  indication  of  His  will  for 
our  further  development.  If  men  regard  the  universe 
as  fundamentally  spiritual,  they  can  draw  no  line  be- 
tween nature  and  supernature,  because  all  nature  is  the 
evidence  of  something  which  is  above  and  beyond.  If 
they  believe  in  God  they  must  believe  that  that  trans- 
cendent Spirit  is  personality  and  intelligence,  but  need 
not  therefore  believe  that  His  action  is  ever  manifested 
apart  from  the  coherent  system  of  things  which  we  call 
"  nature." 

We  may  perhaps  make  quite  clear  the  distinction 
between  these  two  schools  of  religious  thought  —  i.e. 
those  who  believe  in  the  miraculous  and  the  super- 
natural and  those  who  believe  God  works  only  naturally 
—  by  an  illustration.  Those  who  still  hold  that  our 
faith  in  God  depends  upon  our  belief  in  His  occasional 
direct  interference  with  nature  believe  that  the  Birth 
and  Resurrection  of  Jesus  were  unique  events  in  the 
sense  that  they  happened  because  He  was  God,   not 


n  GOD  IN  ACTION  33 

because  He  was  the  ideal  man.  On  the  other  hand, 
those  who  believe  that  nature  is  a  progressiv^e  revela- 
tion of  God's  character  and  purpose  believe,  either 
that  our  Lord's  coming  into  and  going  out  of  this 
world  were  not  physically  different  from  the  birth  and 
the  entry  into  eternal  life  of  other  men,  or  that,  if 
they  were  different,  that  difference  was  something  truly 
natural  to  humanity  at  its  highest  and  best,  the  triumph 
of  spirit  over  body,  something  to  which  all  humanity 
may  one  day  attain  —  the  first-fruits  of  what  physical 
existence  must  become  when  God's  will  is  done  on 
earth  as  in  heaven.  In  such  a  view  these  events  would 
be  thought  of  as  the  supreme  instance  of  the  power 
of  mind  over  body  —  a  power  increasingly  realised 
to-day. 

If  we  take  this  "  natural  "  view  of  God's  relation  to 
the  world,  as  opposed  to  the  supernatural,  we  shall 
look  for  the  explanation  of  all  that  has  been  called 
"  supernatural  "  in  the  action  of  God  evoking  latent 
powers  of  the  human  —  powers  capable  of  being  stated 
in  terms  of  natural  sequence,  i.e.  of  psychological  law. 

What,  then,  is  it  that  so  many  religious  people  fear 
may  be  lost  by  the  acceptance  of  the  view  that  the 
whole  of  religious  experience  is  strictly  natural  from 
the  psychologist's  and  the  biologist's  point  of  view? 
Clearly  they  are  afraid  that,  if  this  view  is  accepted, 
God  will  seem  to  have  left  Himself  without  witness  in 
the  world  and  that  men  will  deny  God's  existence  and 
cease  to  worship  Him  if  they  cannot  believe  that  some 
small  special  part  of  their  life  experience  is  not  natural 
but  supernatural,  in  the  sense  in  which  we  have  here 
agreed  to  use  the  terms. 

There  has  always  been  something  very  good,  as  well 
as  something  foolish  and  something  cruel,  in  the  oppo- 
sition that  wc  of  the  Church  have  shown  to  any  inter- 
ference with  traditional  belief.  On  each  occasion  the 
attitude  evinced  a  very  real  faith  in  God  and  in  the 
Christian  salvation,  and  a  willingness  to  sacrifice  much 


34  THE  SPIRIT  ii 

in  order  to  bear  witness  to  the  truth  for  the  protection 
of  defenceless  multitudes  and  in  defiance  of  any  enemy 
to  the  faith.  Our  folly  lay  in  fearing  that  what  was 
not  of  God  might  bring  to  nought  what  was  of  God. 
There  is,  moreover,  more  than  folly,  there  is  something 
really  evil,  in  the  complex  state  of  mind  which  we  have 
often  displayed.  Like  the  Pharisees  criticising  Christ, 
we  have  allowed  ourselves  to  attribute  moral  defect  to 
those  who  evince  a  disinterested  love  of  truth. 

When  Galileo  affirmed  that  the  world  went  round 
the  sun,  the  Church  took  upon  itself  positively  to  deny 
the  discovery;  and  if,  with  the  aid  of  dramatic  insight, 
we  can  picture  the  theologians  of  that  time,  we  shall  see 
them  chatting  to  each  other  at  street  corners,  in  church 
porches,  and  in  convent  cloisters,  deriding  the  notion, 
and  so  entirely  convinced  that  it  is  absurd  that  it  never 
occurs  to  any  of  them  that  their  derision  and  righteous 
indignation  will  become  in  future  ages  a  byword  for 
ecclesiastical  folly.  Very  much  the  same  thing  is  hap- 
pening to-day  with  regard  to  scientific  discoveries  in  in- 
dividual and  social  psychology,  and,  at  the  present  stage 
of  our  knowledge,  with  less  excuse.  No  astronomical 
discovery  is  of  as  much  importance  to  the  world  as  any 
really  forward  step  in  the  knowledge  of  the  human 
mind;  but  the  ecclesiastical  mind,  as  such,  often  appears 
even  more  averse  to  the  psychological  knowledge  of 
to-day  than  it  was  to  the  astronomy  of  the  Renaissance. 

In  seeking  to  analyse  the  psychological  aspect  of  re- 
ligious experience  our  question  can  only  be,  "  What  is 
truth?  "  secure  in  the  faith  that  God,  who  has  begun  a 
good  work  in  the  world,  will  continue  to  inspire  man 
with  faith  that  is  in  accordance  with  truth. 

The  Psychological  Aspect  of  Religious 
Experience 

II.  Both  those  who  claim  a  special  function  or  mani- 
festation for  God's  supernatural  action  and  those  who 
claim  that  God  works  naturally  lay  stress  on  the  evi- 


II  GOD  IN  ACTION  35 

dence  of  the  religious  experience.  It  would  be  well, 
therefore,  to  discuss  this  experience  in  the  light  thrown 
upon  it  by  psychology. 

The  phenomena  of  the  religious  life  may  be  classified 
thus: 

(i)  Inward  illumination,  with  corresponding  effect 
on  volition. 

(2)  Inspired  utterance,  individual  and  corporate, 
which  may  perhaps  be  defined  as  the  power  to  express 
what  is  received  in  inward  illumination. 

(3)  Unusual  power  of  (a)  resistance  to  temptation 
and  progress  in  virtue;  (b)  physical  or  mental  effort, 
endurance  of  suffering,  and  power  to  regulate  the  health 
of  the  body;  (r)  influence  over  the  minds  of  others. 

(4)  The  reception  of  other  benefits  for  which 
definite  prayer  has  been  made. 

I  will  first  give  typical  and  rather  striking  examples 
of  each  phenomenon,  reserving  discussion  and  analysis 
of  them  till  later. 

(i)  Under  the  head  of  "illumination"  I  would 
class  all  experience  of  vivid  enlightenment  which  comes 
to  seeking  souls,  whether  as  to  the  nature  of  sin  and 
holiness  or  as  to  the  nature  of  God's  personal  attitude 
to  the  self  or  the  world.  There  can  be  no  question  as 
to  the  extraordinary  reality  and  productiveness  of  this 
experience,  nor  can  any  believer  in  God  question  that, 
when  increased  knowledge  of  truth  or  of  vital  virtue  is 
attained  in  this  way,  the  enlightenment  comes  from 
God.  On  the  threshold  of  the  religious  life  such  en- 
lightenment often  takes  the  form  of  a  vivid  sense  of 
God's  presence,  which,  perhaps  for  the  first  time,  brings 
the  conviction  of  His  existence  to  the  sceptical  or  the 
careless.  The  conviction  of  sin,  of  forgiveness,  of  vo- 
cation, of  guidance  in  perplexity,  often  comes  suddenly 
as  the  apparent  result  of  what  is  figuratively  expressed 
as  a  flash  of  light  abolishing  mental  obscurity.  Mo- 
ments of  illumination  may  become  habitual  in  private 
prayer  or  in  participation  in  the  Eucharist,  or  in  confcs- 


36  THE  SPIRIT  ii 

sion  and  absolution,  or  in  the  pursuit  of  beauty  or  truth. 
Many  cases  of  looking  for  external  signs,  or  opening 
books  at  random  to  find  direction,  come  under  this  head. 

An  incident  related  by  Dr.  Horton  in  his  Aiito- 
hiograpliy  illustrates  this.  "  In  my  Union  time  I  felt 
it  my  duty  to  invite  the  Committee  to  breakfast.  .  .  . 
It  was  then  the  universal  custom  to  bring  up  after 
breakfast  tankards  of  college  ale.  To  omit  this  would 
have  seemed  bad  form;  and  for  Oxford  in  those  days 
'  form  '  came  before  both  virtue  and  religion.  I  was 
greatly  exercised,  for  I  had,  on  principle,  refused  to 
keep  wine  in  my  rooms,  and  the  custom  of  having  beer 
at  breakfast  was  to  me  revolting.  And  yet  I  wanted 
to  show  the  usual  civilities  to  my  guests.  The  night 
before  the  party  I  knelt  in  my  room  and  entreated  God 
to  guide  me.  While  I  waited  on  Him  I  opened  my 
Bible,  and  my  eye  fell  on  a  text  in  Isaiah  which  up  to 
that  night  I  had  never  heard  or  seen:  'Woe  unto 
them  that  rise  up  early  in  the  morning,  that  they  may 
follow  strong  drink  '  (Isa.  v.  ii).  I  could  not  at  first 
believe  my  eyes;  it  was  as  if  I  had  seen  it  written: 
*  You  shall  not  have  beer  for  breakfast.'  The  question 
was  at  once  settled." 

(2)  Inspiration, —  The  thoughtful  mind  demands 
of  Omnipotence,  not  only  enhancement  of  vision,  but 
power  of  expression.  We  may  refer  to  four  classes. 
The  artist,  be  he  painter,  musician,  or  poet,  with  some 
glimpse  of  a  beauty  which  he  feels  powerless  to  ex- 
press, reaches  out  in  desire  to  so-me  universal  Power  for 
gift  of  expression.  To  the  thinker  truth  is  an  ob- 
jective reality  which  he  seeks  with  disinterested  passion. 
The  social  worker,  faced  with  the  stupidity  or  selfish 
passions  of  the  herd,  demands  something  more  than 
common  power  of  vision  and  of  endurance  in  order  to 
mould  the  situation  for  the  betterment  of  the  world. 
In  the  avowedly  religious  man  this  instinctive  demand 
becomes  articulate  prayer  to  a  Divine  Personality  who 
embodies  his  highest  conception  of  good;  and  in  the 


II  GOD  IN  ACTION  37 

Christian  this  conception  of  good  or  God  is  moulded 
upon  his  interpretation  of  the  life  and  teachings  of 
Jesus  Christ.  To  all  these  come  moments  or  hours  in 
which  they  feel  that  something  other  than  themselves 
is  expressing  beauty  or  truth  or  wisdom  with  eternal 
authority. 

This  power  to  give  effective  expression  to  what  has 
come  to  the  soul  as  a  matter  of  direct  personal  illumi- 
nation is  not  common.  It  is  the  characteristic  of 
prophetic  literature  as  well  as  of  the  highest  poetry. 
Such  expression  of  individual  conviction  with  regard 
to  the  realities  of  the  religious  life  is  always  a  powerful 
factor  in  moulding  the  religious  and  moral  character 
of  other  persons  or  of  communities.  It  is,  therefore, 
always  entitled  to  be  classed  as  involving  a  degree  of 
religious  inspiration.  Words  spoken  or  written, 
which  seem  to  come  without  the  will  of  the  person  pro- 
ducing them  and  to  transcend  his  mental  level,  are  a 
not  uncommon  result  of  religious  fervour.  In  the  in- 
dividual life  it  commonly  takes  the  form  of  teaching 
or  writing,  and  it  Is  often  called  "  religious  genius." 
The  twenty-third  Psalm,  St.  Paul's  hymn  to  Charity, 
the  description  of  mercy  in  The  Merchant  of  Venice, 
and  Wordsworth's  lines  on  "  Tintern  Abbey,"  are  out- 
standing examples. 

More  rare  is  the  power  to  express  the  corporate 
illumination  of  assemblies  or  communities  who  are  to- 
gether seeking  religious  truth.  Phrases  in  historic 
creeds  come  to  mind  at  once  as  evidence  of  such  in- 
spiration. So  also  do  certain  restatements  of  Christian 
belief  which  reforming  bodies  have  from  time  to  time 
set  forth  under  the  impulse  of  a  corporate  revival  of 
spiritual  life.  Luther's  battle-cry,  "Justification  by 
faith,"  and  the  creed  of  the  French  Revolution, 
"  Liberty,  I'.cjual'ty,  I-raternity,"  are  instances  of  these. 

(3)  Again,  thi  experience  of  unusual  power  over 
circumstances  which  is  felt  to  come  direct  from  God  is 
a  frecjuent  element  in  religious  experience. 


38  THE  SPIRIT  il 

{(i)  Christian  converts  have  declared  that  the 
appetite  for  some  habitual  vice  to  which  they  were 
enslaved  has  been  taken  from  them  orice  for  all  by  the 
realisation  of  divine  forgiveness.  More  often,  how- 
ever, the  conquest  of  such  appetite  is  gradual,  the  pace 
of  conquest  being  obviously  much  quickened  by  deep- 
ening religious  experience.  Again,  the  development  of 
marked  virtues  or  talents  sometimes  synchronises  with 
the  religious  experience,  and  in  missionary  effort  the 
power  to  persuade  and  convert  often  receives  extra- 
ordinary reinforcement  after  periods  of  prayer. 
Many  instances  of  this  class  are  recorded  by  William 
James. ^ 

(b)  The  increase  of  power  to  do  and  to  endure  In 
the  Christian  life,  which  by  many  is  commonly  experi- 
enced after  private  prayer  or  after  participation  in  the 
Eucharist,  is  an  actual  experience.  I  once  met  a  public 
singer  who,  having  been  converted  by  a  band  of  Amer- 
ican evangelists,  joined  them,  and  was  in  the  habit  of 
singing  sacred  solos  at  their  meetings.  She  told  me 
how,  when  advertised  to  sing  at  a  series  of  meetings  in 
a  Western  town,  she  had  been  attacked  by  severe 
laryngitis.  Her  problem  was,  whether  to  go  to  bed 
or,  as  she  phrased  it,  "  to  go  forward,  trusting  in 
God."  Having  decided  on  the  latter  course,  she  found 
herself,  by  some  accident,  turned  out  of  a  hot  sleeping- 
carriage  in  the  middle  of  a  winter  night,  and  forced  to 
wait  on  the  platform  of  a  country  station  for  the  next 
train.  She  described  how  she  went  alone  to  the  end  of 
the  platform,  and  there,  under  the  frosty  stars,  with 
swollen,  aching  throat,  entreated  God  to  make  her 
extremity  His  opportunity.  The  fever  left  her;  her 
throat  became  comfortable;  she  continued  her  journey, 
and  found  her  power  of  persuasive  song  at  its  best. 

(c)  Power  of  influence  over  other  minds  is  illus- 
trated by  a  story  I  once  heard  Moody,  the  evangelist, 
tell  of  how  it  was  borne  in  upon  his  mind  that  he  ought 

1  Varieties  of  Religious  Experience,  pp.  220-228, 


II  GOD  IN  ACTION  39 

to  go  to  a  small  and  inconveniently  placed  town  to 
hold  a  series  of  meetings.  He  knew  no  sufficient 
reason  for  doing  so,  and  was  more  than  fully  occupied 
with  other  plans.  By  degrees,  however,  the  insistent 
recurrence  of  the  name  of  this  town  to  his  mind,  when 
discussing  plans,  led  him  to  arrange  to  visit  it.  After 
doing  so  he  discovered  that  in  that  town  there  was  a 
poor  cripple  who,  having  heard  of  his  work,  had  heen 
unceasingly  praying  that  he  might  come  and  preach  the 
Gospel  to  her  neighbours. 

(4)  The  reception  of  other  specific  benefits  in  re- 
sponse to  prayer. —  A  friend  of  mine  was  one  winter 
concerned  for  the  welfare  of  a  certain  poor  district  of 
the  city  of  Montreal.  A  blizzard  had  visited  the  place, 
almost  stopping  the  traffic,  and  making  the  price  of 
food  prohibitive  to  the  poor.  My  friend  arranged 
that  the  women  of  her  neighbourhood  should  come  to  a 
certain  chapel  kitchen  for  soup.  Early  in  the  day  on 
which  it  was  to  be  ready  she  went  to  the  kitchen  to 
find  that  the  butcher,  who  with  much  difficulty  had 
delivered  bones,  had  not  chopped  them,  and  no  vessel 
was  at  hand  large  enough  to  cook  them  whole.  She 
went  out,  standing  to  gaze  upon  a  street  drifted  by 
almost  untrodden  snow,  and  prayed  earnestly  for  a 
large  pot.  She  immediately  felt  what  she  described  as 
an  insane  desire  to  visit  a  certain  poor  house  from 
which  she  could  not  reasonably  expect  any  help.  Going 
there,  she  found  the  doorway,  to  her  amused  delight, 
almost  blocked  by  a  great  copper  pot  which  the  family 
had  acquired  a  few  days  before  for  a  bad  debt,  but 
which  was  useless  to  them.  In  this  vessel  the  soup  was 
easily  made. 

I  give  experiences  personally  known  to  me,  as  well 
as  others,  because  I  wish  to  insist  that  such  marvels 
constantly  happen,  and  happen  in  connection  with 
prayer.  It  would  be  easy  to  give  chapter  and  verse 
for  stories  of  the  same  sort  in  the  biographies  of  me- 
diaeval saints  and  modern  missionaries. 


40  THE  SPIRIT  ii 

The  question  must  now  be  asked,  are  they  open  to 
psychological  analysis,  and  can  they  be  referred  to  the 
natural  order? 

The  hypothesis  of  this  essay  is  that  God  is  all-power- 
ful to  produce  good  in  His  own  way  by  educating,  not 
by  compelling,  living  spirits  that  each  have  their  own 
degree  of  freedom;  by  using  the  organising  power  of 
life  as  His  instrument,  not  by  overriding  nature.  It  is, 
therefore,  for  two  reasons  necessary  that  we  should 
learn  as  much  as  we  can  of  the  modus  operandi  of  re- 
ligious experience:  first,  because  man  is  always  imagin- 
ing an  unreal  religious  experience  which  he  mistakes  for 
the  real;  and,  secondly,  because  man's  humble  co-opera- 
tion with  God  must  always  be  furthered  by  a  better  un- 
derstanding of  His  ways. 

It  is  from  this  standpoint  that  we  ask,  does  our 
advance  in  knowledge  suffice  to  suggest  a  "  natural  " 
explanation  of  such  experiences  as  have  been  cited? 

To  this  I  believe  that  a  well-considered  "  yes  "  may 
be  given.  In  the  last  few  years  we  have  learned  from 
the  experiments  of  scientific  psychologists,  and  of  late 
notably  of  medical  men  attending  patients  suffering 
from  shell-shock,  various  facts  which  throw  a  flood  of 
light  upon  the  psychology  of  religious  experience. 
These  facts  go  far  to  explain  by  known  psychological 
causes  many  of  the  elements  in  religious  experience  that 
have  seemed  inexplicable,  and  therefore  warrant  a 
strong  presumption  that  other  facts,  which  they  do 
not  cover,  have  a  kindred  explanation. 

To  put  it  quite  simply,  the  mind  of  man  has  been 
found  to  be  something  larger  than  his  consciousness. 
One  part  of  that  mind  is  conscious,  the  other  subcon- 
scious. From  the  subconscious  mind  come  impulses  to 
action,  or  to  refrain  from  action,  impulses  to  think  of 
certain  subjects  or  to  refrain  from  thinking  of  them, 
impulses  to  the  encouragement  of  certain  emotions  or 
to  their  discouragement.  This  subconscious  part  of 
the  mind,  which  cannot  be  awakened  or  controlled  by 


II  GOD  IN  ACTION  41 

any  direct  effort  of  the  will,  can  be  controlled  and  edu- 
cated by  what  is  called  "  mental  suggestion,"  and  men- 
tal suggestion  is  found  to  work  most  powerfully  when 
the  conscious  mind  is  either  quiescent  or  has  its  atten- 
tion distracted. 

Such  quiescent  condition,  though  a  state  of  mental 
and  physical  repose,  is  not  a  state  of  dulness,  nor  Is  it 
always  a  state  of  passivity,  but  Is  very  often  rather  a 
state  of  great  progress  of  thought  and  insight  on  any 
subject  on  which  the  attention  Is  focussed.  Also  in  this 
state  certain  powers  of  the  mind,  unsuspected  in  for- 
mer times,  come  into  evidence. 

We  know  this  because  men  often  find  that  during 
sleep  they  have  formed  correct  judgments  on  matters 
in  which  they  had  been  wavering  and  perplexed. 
Again,  the  suggestion,  under  medical  hypnosis,  that 
they  have  the  power  to  do  certain  things  which  they 
have  never  been  able  to  do  before,  enables  them  to  do 
them;  they  can  remember  what  otherwise  they  had  en- 
tirely forgotten,  and  under  the  right  suggestion  bad 
habits  have  been  entirely  abandoned.  Yet  again,  un- 
der medical  hypnosis  the  centres  of  sensuous  Impression 
can  be  so  controlled  that  negative  or  positive  hallucina- 
tions are  induced  —  a  fact  which  bears  on  cases  in  which 
visions  are  seen,  voices  heard,  etc.  Once  more,  phys- 
ical functions,  such  as  the  circulation  of  the  blood,  the 
action  of  muscles,  respiration,  etc.,  can  be  affected  by 
mental  suggestion  —  a  fact  which  bears  on  the  healing 
of  disease,  and  on  accession  of  physical  strength  to  do 
or  to  endure. 

It  is  also  now  recognised  that  sleep  is  not  necessary 
to  the  quiescent  state  in  which  the  greatest  potency  of 
mental  suggestion  obtains.  Such  a  state  can  very  eas- 
ily be  Induced  by  the  mental  strain  involved  in  fixing  the 
attention  upon  one  external  object  or  one  idea;  and 
those  who  have  scientific  knowledge  of  such  states  know 
that  people  who  fall  into  them  are  seldom  able  to  real- 
ise their  own  suggestible  condition. 


42  THE  SPIRIT  II 

When  it  is  realised  that  the  prolonged  effort  and 
emotion  of  the  various  phases  of  "  devotional  exer- 
cises," attention  to  religious  rites  or  earnestness  in  pri- 
vate prayer,  provide  just  the  strain  of  attention  neces- 
sary to  produce  the  quiescent  and  suggestible  state,  the 
candid  mind  will  at  once  perceive  that  suggestion, 
either  from  some  external  source  or  from  the  automatic 
movement  of  the  subconscious  mind,  will  be  potent  in 
hours  of  devotion,  and  that  any  of  the  phenomena  of 
the  suggestible  state  may  then  be  experienced,  and  in- 
duce results  unexpected  by  the  subject.^ 

Let  us  then  take  as  a  provisional  hypothesis  the  posi- 
tion that  the  faculties  revealed  in  suggestible  condi- 
tions, which  may  be,  and  are,  used  by  men  both  for 
good  and  evil,  are  used  by  the  Spirit  in  the  exercise  of 
His  beneficent  power.  We  may  now  take  this  hypoth- 
esis and  see  how  it  applies  to  the  various  instances 
already  given. 

(i)  Illumination. —  Take  the  case  of  Dr.  Horton's 
solution  of  his  dilemma  quoted  on  p.  36.  A  reviewer 
in  The  New  Statesman  remarks  on  the  capriciousness 
attaching  to  divine  guidance  on  any  such  theory,  and 
adds:  "  No  one  would  mock  at  the  boy  who  did  this, 
but  what  is  one  to  say  as  to  the  judgement,  the  intel- 
lectual capacity,  of  the  man  who,  repeating  this  story, 
can  also  admit  that  he  wasted  much  of  his  life  in  thun- 
dering against  the  superstitious  errors  and  the  lack  of 
truth  among  his  fellow-Christians?  " 

But  the  reviewer  is  here  criticising  the  magical  view 
of  such  direction.  The  natural  view  would  be  to  take 
it  as  a  fact  of  the  established  order  that  in  every  man 
there  resides  a  greater  power  of  judgement  than  he  or- 
dinarily exercises;  that  in  the  case  of  a  religious  man 
who,  perplexed,  cries  to  God,  God  enhances  his  latent 
natural  power;  that  when,  weary  after  effort,  such  a 
man  waits  humbly  to  receive  wisdom,  the  Spirit  through 
this  enhancement  gives  the  right  auto-suggestion.  To 
put  it  in  other  words:  the  man's  mind  will  then  rise  to 

1  See  Essay  VII.,  pp.  2S3-S.  262. 


II  GOD  IN  ACTION  43 

Its  own  highest  capacity;  he  will  see  the  real  issue  clear 
of  perplexity;  on  that  account  he  will  estimate  more 
clearly  the  probable  results  of  different  courses.  Just 
in  so  far  as  his  whole  past  life  has  educated  him  to  see 
God's  purpose  for  himself  and  for  the  world,  he  will 
see  the  right  decision.  Any  oracle  that  he  consults  will 
be  useful  just  in  so  far  as  It  helps  to  stimulate  and  form- 
ulate his  own  best  judgement;  It  will  be  misleading  just 
In  so  far  as  he  accepts  what  contradicts  In  any  degree 
his  own  best  judgement.  In  the  case  of  Dr.  Horton's 
youthful  perplexity,  It  Is  probable  that  before  this  Inci- 
dent arose  he  had  made  up  his  mind  on  the  general 
principle  that  conformity  to  what  he  regarded  as  fool- 
ish customs  was  the  lower  path.  In  quiet  recollection 
he  was  able  to  penetrate  below  the  strong  counter-cur- 
rents that  confused  his  surface  mind  and  apply  the 
deeper  principle  of  his  life  to  the  particular  case  In 
point.  Had  he  turned  up  any  text  which  suggested  the 
Importance  of  doing  right,  even  at  the  cost  of  tem- 
porary misunderstanding,  he  would  probably  have 
found  it  equally  convincing.  Had  he  turned  up  the 
text,  "  Take  a  little  wine  for  thy  stomach's  sake  and 
thine  often  infirmity,"  he  would  probably  have  reflected 
that  It  did  not  apply  to  his  particular  visitors. 
(Whether  or  not  there  is,  as  some  think,  a  latent  nat- 
ural power  of  what  might  be  called  "  X-ray  vision  "  or 
"  second  sight,"  which  would  enable  any  one  in  such  a 
case  to  turn  up  an  appropriate  text,  must  be  left  to  fu- 
ture Investigation  to  decide.)  Superstition,  in  such  a 
case,  would  be  involved  In  accepting  some  fiat  of  the 
Bible,  or  other  external  authority,  when  It  contradicted 
his  own  best  judgement.  In  the  more  Important  cases 
In  which,  as  the  reviewer  points  out,  he,  in  later  life, 
admits  his  judgement  erred,  the  probability  is  that  he 
took  for  granted  that  his  course  was  righteous,  went 
through  no  searching  of  heart  and  mind,  and  made  no 
candid  and  humble  appeal  for  help  to  the  Source  of 
wisdom. 


44  THE  SPIRIT  ii 

Thus  interpreted,  this  trivial  instnnce  suggests  a  clue 
wiiich  may  lead  us  into  the  heart  of  every  case  of  ap- 
parently supernatural  illumination.  If  God  be  acting 
always  for  our  good,  the  God-consciousness,  ^'.y  hypoth- 
esi,  is  not  needed  to  bring  God  into  a  man's  life,  but  it 
opens  a  man's  intelligence  and  emotional  nature  to  an 
awareness  of  the  Spirit's  standard  of  values  —  a  stan- 
dard transcending  any  standard  of  pleasure  or  of  mere 
expediency  —  and  gives  the  Spirit  opportunity  to  en- 
hance the  natural  powers  of  the  mind. 

(2)  Inspiration. —  Again,  with  regard  to  inspired 
expression,  many  of  us  know  some  artist  or  writer  or 
speaker  who  experiences  the  mood  of  feeling  in  which 
he  is  carried  beyond  his  own  powers,  and  feels  enabled 
to  do  or  say  something  greater  than  his  natural  ability 
would  produce.  Frederick  Myers  called  this  "  an  up- 
rush  from  the  subliminal  self."  He  believed  this  self 
to  be  something  much  greater  than  the  conscious  self, 
but  later  psychologists  believe  it  to  be  merely  the  repos- 
itory of  past  experience,  subjective  or  objective,  plus 
such  latent  powers  as  the  mind  may  possess  undevel- 
oped by  exercise  or  education.  We  incline  to  the  lat- 
ter belief;  our  sudden  memories  of  things  long  forgot- 
ten, our  odd  and  unexpected  impulses,  suggest  that 
what  is  evil  and  absurd  as  well  as  what  is  splendid  may 
come  from  this  source  into  consciousness.  And  that, 
indeed,  is  what  happens.  Words  containing  sublime 
messages  for  the  world  have  risen  unbidden  in  the 
minds  of  prophets;  but  the  same  conviction  of  inspira- 
tion occurs  in  fools  and  fanatics  as  in  sages  and  proph- 
ets; and  most  people  who  are  subject  to  it  acknowledge 
that  they  have  at  times,  under  its  influence,  produced 
what  was  not  worth  production.  What  seems  like 
automatic  speech  or  art  or  writing  is  a  perfectly  natural 
process  which  may  or  may  not  be  used  to  interpret  the 
values  of  the  Spirit  to  the  world  of  sense.  How  it 
will  be  used  will  depend  upon  other  factors  in  the  life. 
We  have  also  to  take  into  account  that  there  is  a 


II  GOD  IN  ACTION  45 

good  deal  of  evidence  of  the  transference  of  mood  and 
notion  from  mind  to  mind  without  sense  perception, 
the  condition  usually  being  strong  or  vivid  emotion  in 
one  or  more  of  the  agents  and  a  quiescent  condition 
in  the  percipient.  Of  transference  of  mood  we  have 
evidence  in  many  historic  corporate  manias,  chronicles 
recording  that  people,  even  children,  living  apart  in 
country  places,  who  had  heard  and  seen  nothing  of  the 
popular  commotion,  were  moved  sometimes  to  dancing, 
sometimes  to  beating  themselves,  sometimes  to  setting 
out  upon  pilgrimage,  in  the  same  way  in  which  the 
populace  of  the  district  happened  to  be  moved.  We 
might  set  aside  these  annals  as  false  were  it  not  that  in 
our  own  days  we  well  know  that  political  or  military 
excitement  can  move  people  to  opinions  and  actions 
that  they  could  never  rationally  infer  from  what  they 
see  and  hear,  and  infection  of  mood  appears  to  account 
for  the  phenomena.  There  are  also  very  many  well- 
authenticated  cases  of  mental  coinciden-ces  beyond  the 
possibility  of  chance  and  sense  perception  for  the  ex- 
planation of  which  we  must  either  accept  the  spiritual- 
istic hypothesis  of  the  agency  of  discarnate  spirits,  or 
believe  that  where  there  is  strong  emotion  in  the  agent, 
and  quiescence  in  the  percipient,  there  may  be  a  natural 
transference  of  mood  and  notion  which  comes  as  a  mes- 
sage from  the  unseen,  and  only  half  a  century  ago 
would  have  been  considered  miraculous.' 

In  modern  accounts  of  mental  coincidence  the  im- 
pression, as  interpreted  by  the  recipient,  rarely  corre- 
sponds in  all  points  with  the  ideas  that  were  trans- 
mitted. I  may  Illustrate  this  from  my  own  experience. 
One  night  I  dreamed  that  two  friends  —  a  brother  and 
sister — had  had  a  carriage  accident.  In  my  dream 
I  saw  the  brother  carried  into  a  gartlen  gateway  in  a 

I  It  will  be  obscrvcfl  th.it  this  st-itcmcnt  makes  no  rrfcroncc  to  cviflcncc  for 
or  aK.iinst  such  thouKht-r<-.-i(linK  as  has  lipcn  claiim-<l  to  pass  hftwccn  people 
where  no  emotion  is  iiivolverl.  The  negative  result  of  the  experiments  maiie  at 
Leianfl  Stanford  Junior  University  by  Dr.  Coover  lias  no  bearing  >ipon  what  we 
are  now  iliscussinK  un'lcr  tlie  name  of  telepathy,  as  in  his  experiments  no  emo- 
tion appears  to  have  been  involved;  nor  docs  there  appear  to  have  been  any 
attempt   to  experiment  with   percipients   in   hypnotic  conditions. 


46  THE  SPIRIT  ii 

man's  arms,  and  heard  his  sister  say  shortly  after,  in  a 
tone  of  relief,  "  There  are  no  bones  broken."  So 
vivid  was  the  dream  that,  although  not  accustomed  to 
notice  dreams,  I  wrote  to  inquire,  and  found  the  fact 
to  be  that  the  day  before  the  friends  in  question  had 
been  driving  out.  The  brother  had  seen  his  favourite 
dog  run  over  by  a  cart  and  carried  in  the  groom's  arms 
into  a  gateway  to  be  examined;  that,  shortly  after- 
wards, his  sister  had  called  out  that  no  bones  were 
broken.  Neither  of  them  had  connected  the  incident 
in  any  conscious  way  with  me.  Such  experiences  seem 
to  point  to  a  natural  faculty  of  giving  and  receiving 
non-sensuous  messages  which  lies  below  the  level  of 
consciousness.  Such  impressions,  when  vivid,  urge  the 
conscious  mind  to  find  its  own  fallible  interpretation 
of  them. 

When  we  study  the  religious  utterances  of  minds 
that  the  religious  world  has  rightly  counted  inspired,  we 
find  a  condition  of  things  closely  akin  to  telepathic 
impression.  Both  form  and  content  of  the  utterance 
seem  so  much  conditioned  by  age  and  nation  that  they 
appear  to  be  the  prophet's  interpretation  of  some  sug- 
gestion impressed  upon  his  subconscious  mind,  rather 
than  anything  approaching  infallible  diction. 

(3)    Cases  of  unusual  power. 

(a)  The  new  personality  that  may  emerge  from 
sudden  conversion  has  been  analysed  and  described  by 
Professor  James. ^ 

(b)  It  is  admitted  '  that  power  of  endurance  may  be 
enhanced,  and  that  disease  can  often  be  cured  by  mental 
suggestion,  as  in  the  case  quoted  of  the  public  singer. 

(f)  The  prayer  of  the  cripple  which  brought  Moody 
the  evangelist  out  of  his  way  may  fitly  be  regarded  as 
an  instance  of  the  working  of  telepathy. 

There  should  be  no  difl^culty  either  to  faith  or  reason 
in  accepting  these  results  as  the  action  of  the  Spirit. 
If  we  believe  that  the  Divine  Spirit  is  always,  every- 

1  Varieties  of  Religious  Experience,  p.  230-237.  2  Cf.  Essay  III.,  p.  69   fF. 


II  GOD  IN  ACTION 


47 


where,  acting  in  the  world,  we  believe,  ^.v  hypothesi, 
that  He   does,   by  personal  influence,   exercise   a   real 
force  of  persuasion  and  Instruction  upon  living  spirits 
that  do  not  shut  themselves  off  from  goodness.      His 
working  Is  thus  contingent  on  man's  attitude  and  will. 
We  may  grant  —  what  is  not  yet  proven  —  that  all  the 
motions  of  inanimate  nature  are  pre-determined  and 
fixed  in  a  mechanical  certainty,  but  we  must  still  admit 
that  we  have,  interpenetrating  this  mechanical  system, 
life  which  is  not  mechanical,  whose  motions  we  do  not 
believe  to  be  pre-determined.     Now  that  the  biologists 
are  throwing  aside  the  dream  of  a  mechanical  system 
of  life  which  is  pre-determined,  the  theologian  can  with 
the  more  confidence  repudiate  the  corresponding  con- 
ception of  the  pre-determlnatlon  of  all  events  by  God. 
(4)    The  reception  of  benefits  after  definite  prayer. 
—  The  amusing  case  of  the  lady  and  the  copper  pot 
may  have  been  both  an  answer  to  prayer  and  entirely 
natural.      The  pot  was  near  by,  and  In  the  possession 
of  a  person  who  did  not  want  it.     The  lady  who  dis- 
covered It  had  previously  been  the  subject  of  several 
experiences   commonly   attributed   to   "  second   sight." 
Whatever  natural  faculty  of  the  mind  such  experiences 
betray  had  therefore  already  been  quickened  by  exer- 
cise.     All  that  is  necessary  to  place  the  Spirit's  action 
in  this  case  within  the  natural  order  is  to  say  that  the 
subconscious  power  of  this  faculty  was  quickened  by 
Him  In   response   to   prayer.      Her   Intense   sympathy 
with    the    hungry   poor,    her   child-like    dependence    on 
God   and  eager  prayer,   gave   the   Spirit  opportunity. 
Had  the  pot  not  been  at  hand  we  may  assume  she  might 
have  been  guided,  by  means  of  the  same  natural  fac- 
ulty, to  some  other  way  out  of  the  difl^culty  —  ^- g-, 
some  one  whose  mind  was  open  to  good  and  (lod  might 
have  been  guided  by  telepathic  impression  to  come  to 
her  aid. 

Probably  one  element  In   our   i-ord's  \'isIon  ol    the 
Kingdom  was  the  human  community  whose  many  minds 


48  THE  SPIRIT  ii 

should  all  always  be  open  to  such  quickening  by  the 
Spirit  that  they  would  work  in  harmony,  aware  of  each 
other's  needs.  If  we  say  that  our  antagonisms  and 
dulness  have  prevented  the  rise  of  such  a  community, 
we  offer  a  rational  explanation  of  the  undoubted  fact 
that  many  prayers  for  help  in  good  work  as  earnest 
and  single-hearted  as  this  one  are  not  followed  by  im- 
mediate relief. 

In  our  present  state  of  knowledge  it  appears  to  be 
just  as  short-sighted  to  hold  that  prayer  can  only  affect 
the  world  by  elevating  the  soul  that  prays,  as  to  insist 
that  God's  power  overrides  natural  sequence.  Either 
view  appears  to  entail  a  moral  nemesis  that  ought  to 
warn  us  that  it  is  not  the  track  of  truth.  Those  who 
wed  their  souls  to  the  first  supposition  lose  in  their  in- 
tercourse with  God  and  man  an  element  of  child-like 
hope  in  fresh  possibilities  which,  when  retained,  gives 
to  the  mature  mind  a  poise,  charm,  and  influence  that 
nothing  else  can  give.  On  the  other  hand,  those  who 
believe  that  God  overrides  nature  on  occasion  are 
forced  to  depict  His  way  as  cruel  or  entirely  incompre- 
hensible because  of  the  great  multitude  of  cases  in 
which  there  is  no  marvellous  response  to  prayer.  This 
last  is  the  ethical  difficulty  of  the  belief  in  miracles  that 
override  natural  sequences.  A  world  awakened  to  ask 
"  the  reason  why  "  can  never  be  reconciled  to  a  God 
cruel  or  wholly  arbitrary;  it  can  understand  a  God  self- 
limited  by  creation. 

On  this  question  of  whether,  and  how,  God  responds 
to  definite  petitions  we  often  hear  the  argument  that 
because  man,  by  free  will,  can  interfere  in  the  course 
of  nature  it  is  absurd  to  suppose  that  God  cannot.  But 
man  cannot  interfere  with  nature  in  the  sense  of  abro- 
gating natural  laws;  he  can  only  control  their  work- 
ing. It  has  been  said  that  a  man  who  catches  a  cricket- 
ball  in  its  flight  neutralises  the  force  of  gravitation, 
by  which  law,  without  his  wilful  action,  the  ball  would 
fall  to  the  ground.  But  his  whole  action  is  conditioned 
by  the   force  of  gravitation;  without  it  he  could  do 


II  GOD  IN  ACTION  49 

nothing.  By  that  he  stands  his  ground  and  exerts  the 
force  necessary  to  catch  the  ball.  The  will  and  skill 
to  catch  the  ball  are  the  contribution  of  the  man's  mind, 
but  he  effects  his  purpose  in  strict  co-operation  with  all 
the  laws  that  govern  matter  and  motion.  As  far  as 
reason  differs  from  folly,  so  far  does  the  belief  that 
man  can  only  perform  what  he  wills  in  accordance  with 
natural  law  differ  from  the  assumption  that  man's 
choice  is  predetermined  by  mechanical  sequence. 
There  is  the  same  difference  between  the  belief  that 
God's  action  will  always  be  in  accordance  with  natural 
sequence  and  the  assumption  that  He  cannot  act  in  the 
world  in  direct  response  to  man's  desire.  We  m.ay  ac- 
cept the  hypothesis  that  God  acts  only  through  natural 
means  while  at  the  same  time  we  retain  the  fullest  be- 
lief in  His  personal  freedom  to  answer  prayer  by  shap- 
ing natural  events  in  the  line  of  our  desire.  There  is 
much  evidence  encouraging  the  belief  that  God  evokes 
our  faith  by  using  prayer  as  a  factor  in  the  construc- 
tion of  the  immediate  future.  It  is  unquestionable 
that  without  the  calculable  properties  of  matter  man 
could  carry  out  no  purpose.  What  we  call  natural  law 
is  his  instrument,  his  tool,  his  weapon.  It  is  the  instru- 
ment of  life  in  all  its  forms,  from  the  smallest  germ  of 
vegetation  to  the  greatest  human  genius.  Our  hypoth- 
esis is  that  all  life,  culminating  in  man's  free  spirit  witii 
its  intelligence,  is,  in  turn,  God's  instrument,  by  which 
he  will  accomplish  the  desire  expressed  in  every  true 
prayer. 

What  then,  we  ask,  is  the  value  of  religious  experi- 
ence as  an  evidence  of  God's  action  in  the  world?  The 
only  evidence  that  has  really  convinced  religious  men  of 
God's  action  is  the  correspondence  of  the  religious  de- 
sire with  its  satisfaction.  It  is  not  the  appearance  of 
magic  in  the  method  of  its  satisfaction  that  is  convinc- 
ing. The  religious  instinct  dcmantls  from  Cjod  the  se- 
curity of  mutual  love  and  the  enhancement  of  life.  If 
God  docs  not  satisfy  these  demands  of  those  who  seek 


50  THE  SPlRir  II 

Him,  then,  as  the  Apu)stlc  said,  "  religion  is  vain." 
Every  godly  mind  rises  to  corroborate  the  truth  of  the 
cry,  "  Herein  is  love,  not  that  we  loved  God,  but  that 
he  loved  us  "  (i  John  iv.  lo)  ;  or  this,  "  Thou  hast 
been  a  strength  to  the  poor,  a  strength  to  the  needy  in 
his  distress,  a  refuge  from  the  storm,  a  shadow  from 
the  heat,  when  the  blast  of  the  terrible  ones  is  as  a 
storm  against  the  wall  "  (Isaiah  xxv.  4)  ;  or  this,  "  My 
soul  shall  be  joyful  in  my  God,  for  he  hath  clothed  me 
with  the  garments  of  salvation"  (Isaiah  Ixi.  10)  ;  or 
again,  "  As  far  as  the  east  is  from  the  west,  so  far  hath 
he  removed  our  transgressions  from  us.  Like  as  a 
father  pitieth  his  children,  so  the  Lord  pitieth  them 
that  fear  him  "  (Ps.  ciii.  12—13).  ^^  '^  ^^^  discovery 
that  the  godward  appeal  is  a  valid  cheque  upon  the 
bank  of  reality  that  convinces  those  who  make  it  of  the 
reality  of  God's  action.  If  a  man  pray  for  bread  his 
faith  that  he  is  answered  does  not  depend  on  his  seeing 
the  bread  brought  by  a  raven  instead  of  a  baker.  If 
he  seek  direction  from  God  he  does  not  turn  atheist 
because  he  gets  it  through  a  neighbour's  advice. 
Though  it  be  proved  to  us  that  all  response  to  our 
prayer  and  aspiration  comes  through  natural  process, 
our  faith  will  not  fail  as  long  as  we  are  sure  of  response. 

Not  All  That  Happens  Expresses  God's  Mind 

III.  If,  then,  we  agree  that  God  is  a  Spirit  and 
works  in  the  world  through  natural  process,  are  we  to 
believe  that  whatever  happens  is  God's  will  —  that 
whenever  disaster  occurs  it  is  a  divine  judgement? 
Theology  has  often  taught  this,  but  in  seeking  thus 
to  enhance  the  divine  glory  it  has  really  detracted 
from  it. 

Man's  judgements  with  regard  to  truth,  goodness, 
and  beauty  certainly  exist;  and  these  realities  are  in 
sharp  opposition  to  human  error,  ugliness,  and  cruelty, 
and  their  results  —  which  also  actually  exist.  Both, 
however,  cannot  equally  be  the  work  of  the  Spirit;  we 


11  GOD  IN  ACTION  '  51 

cannot  read  the  divine  character  equally  in  both.  And 
we  cannot  believe  that  God  is  divided;  that  as  God  the 
Father  He  does  one  thing,  and  as  the  Holy  Spirit  op- 
poses His  own  act.  He  cannot  by  His  sovereign  will 
drive  men  mad  in  order  to  destroy  them,  while  by  His 
Spirit  He  seeks  to  save  them. 

And  if  human  action  can  oppose  God,  what  right 
have  we  to  suppose  that  all  other  creatures  that  make 
up  the  biological  system  of  which  man  is  a  part  always 
act  in  concert  with  God?  The  power  which  controls 
the  world  is  either  a  non-moral  power,  and  therefore 
despicable  in  man's  judgement,  or,  man's  judgements 
of  value  show  the  influence  of  the  Spirit  upon  his  spirit, 
and  it  is  to  them  that  we  must  look  to  discover  God's 
character.  The  Holy  Spirit  cannot  both  be  the  divine 
power  of  Christian  experience  and  the  divine  power  of 
the  fatalist  who  cries,  "  Whatever  is,  is  right." 

We  need  more  clear  thinking  in  this  respect  than 
religious  teachers  sometimes  give.  Many  men,  look- 
ing back  on  their  past  lives,  see  that  good  has  come  to 
them  out  of  misfortunes;  and  history  presents  cases 
when  national  disasters,  and  even  national  crimes,  have 
inaugurated  new  eras  of  higher  development.  This 
proves  that  the  Spirit  may  inspire  men  to  meet  evil  in 
such  a  way  as  to  attain  a  higher  good  than  was  theirs 
before  they  encountered  the  evil.  It  does  not  prove 
more  than  this.  A  mariner  whose  ship  is  struck  by  a 
storm  may  set  his  sails  so  as  to  be  sped  upon  his  way 
while  at  the  same  time  he  is  in  peril  from  the  blast. 
This  does  not  prove  that  he  would  not  have  made  a  bet- 
ter voyage  by  a  steady,  favourable  wind.  Our  imag- 
inations are  feeble;  whenever  we  try  to  conceive  an- 
other past  than  that  which  has  actually  happened,  they 
wave  in  nothingness  as  the  tendrils  of  a  young  climbing 
plant,  unsupported,  wave  in  air.  We  comfort  our- 
selves for  our  fceble-mindedness  by  falling  back  upon 
what  wc  call  "  real  life,"  and  pointing  out  that  when- 
ever men  or  nations  have  enjoyed  monotonous  prosper- 


52  Till'.  SPIRIT  II 

ity  they  have  degenerated.  We  are  like  a  mariner 
who,  reaching  his  port  by  a  skilful  use  of  storms,  does 
not  picture  the  ^•oyage  that  might  have  been  with  the 
steady,  favourable  wind,  but  points  to  ships  that  are  be- 
calmed and  thanks  his  lucky  stars.  The  fact  that  men 
and  nations  often  deteriorate  when  they  enjoy  monot- 
onous security  is  undeniable,  but  such  security  has  had 
its  source  in  the  temper  which  hedges  itself  about  with 
safety,  and  refuses,  in  this  present  evil  world,  to  "  live 
dangerously."  That  temper  carries  within  it  the  seeds 
of  degeneration.  Such  fact  does  not  prove  that  the 
disasters  which  men  of  noble  endeavour  frequently  meet 
are  of  the  Spirit's  contriving,  or  even  that  the  disasters 
which  befall  notorious  evildoers  are  His  work.  In 
fact,  if  we  will  but  interrogate  our  own  beliefs  strictly 
we  shall  see  that  we  none  of  us  believe  the  fatalist  creed 
that  on  occasion  we  recite.  We  do  not  believe  the 
Holy  Spirit  inspired  the  Jerusalem  crowd  to  cry  for 
the  crucifixion  of  Jesus.  The  spirit  that  urged  this 
crowd  to  this  national  crime  was  not  the  spirit  which 
urged  a  crowd  in  the  same  city  to  repentance  on  the 
day  of  Pentecost.  The  spirit  that  urges  a  mob  to 
lynch  a  criminal  is  not  the  spirit  that  urges  prison  re- 
form. The  spirit  that  urged  the  pioneers  of  modern 
science  to  seek  the  truth  of  things  is  not  the  spirit  which 
urges  ecclesiastics  to  their  persecution.  The  spirit 
that  urges  men  to  the  subjection  of  the  weak  and  the 
atrocities  of  war  is  not  the  spirit  that  urges  them  to 
true  brotherhood  and  true  bravery,  to  the  heroism  of 
the  magnanimous  victor  and  the  heroic  nurse,  to  bal- 
anced thought  and  good  statesmanship.  The  miseries 
that  come  to  man  through  men  do  not  come  to  them  be- 
cause their  opponents  are  inspired  by  the  Holy  Spirit. 

Or  if  we  take  the  disasters  that  befall  men  from  the 
forces  of  what  we  call  lower  nature,  we  are  all  ready  to 
admit  that  the  spirit  which  urges  men  so  to  observe  and 
co-operate  with  these  forces  that  they  may  avoid  de- 
struction from  them,  and  even  make  them  their  serv- 


II  GOD  IN  ACTION  53 

ants,  is  not  the  spirit  that  inspires  men  stupidly  to  ac- 
quiesce in  the  recurrence  of  such  evils. 

Curiously  enough,  while  popular  theology  often  as- 
cribes calamity  to  God,  it  never  ascribes  it  to  the  Holy 
Spirit.  But  orthodox  theology  has  never  countenanced 
tritheism.  No  one  would  assert  that  God  the  Father 
urges  men  to  rob  or  murder  their  neighbours  while  the 
Holy  Spirit  is  striving  with  them  to  resist  the  tempta- 
tion. Yet  this  is  implied  if  we  say  that  disasters 
brought  about  by  the  wickedness  of  men  are  the  will  of 
God.  Nor  can  we  suppose  that  God  the  Father  has 
foredoomed  men  to  destruction  —  let  us  say,  by  earth- 
quake —  while  the  Spirit  of  Wisdom,  working  through 
science  and  sanity,  is  prompting  them  to  quit  the  area 
of  danger.  The  God  of  the  fatalist  is  not  the  God  of 
the  Christian;  and  the  effort  of  Christian  thought  to 
combine  these  two  characters  in  one  Being  is  the  chief 
cause  of  the  practical  atheism  widespread  in  all  ranks  of 
society  and  among  nominal  Christians. 

It  is  unavailing  for  the  advocates  of  this  combina- 
tion-God, who  builds  and  destroys,  afflicts  and  consoles, 
to  cry  that  God  is  so  great  that  He  transcends  the  op- 
position in  a  way  the  finite  mind  cannot  understand,  be- 
cause God  only  enters  into  man's  field  of  vision  at  all  in 
so  far  as  man  can  understand  His  character. 

If  we  interrogate  religious  experience  as  to  the  char- 
acter of  the  supreme  Spirit,  we  find  it  has  always 
claimed  to  possess  the  mutual  understanding  involved 
in  kinship.  Thus  the  religious  mind  claims  always  to 
be  "His  offspring,"  to  be  "made  in  his  image";  it 
cries,  "  His  spirit  beareth  witness  with  our  spirit  that 
we  are  the  sons  of  God";  "Whereby  we  cry  Abba 
Father";  "Our  father,  which  art  in  heaven."  All 
these  are  ways  of  expressing  the  conviction  of  kinship 
or  a  mutuality  of  comprehension  which  implies  that  hu- 
man judgements  of  good  are  (jod-implantcd  and  reflect 
—  feebly  indeed,  but  still  reflect  —  God's  intenser 
knowledge   of  good   and   evil.     And   as   the    religious 


54  THE  SPIRIT  ii 

mind  rises  to  apprehend  the  more  universal  obligations 
of  goodwill,  it  realises  that  the  forces  and  animosities 
which  cause  all  that  is  dire  cannot  be  the  action  of  a 
good  God. 

The  Goal  of  the  Spirit 

IV.  If,  then,  we  are  agreed  that  the  Divine  Spirit  Is 
at  work  In  the  world  of  men  In  ways  that  are  natural 
to  the  world  and  to  men,  and  also  that  In  that  world 
good  and  evil  are  really  opposed  to  one  another,  the 
Spirit  working  on  the  side  of  good  and  against  evil,  we 
have  still  to  discover  (a)  what  Is  the  nature  of  the  good 
for  which  the  Spirit  works,  and  (b)  how  we  may  co- 
operate with  the  Spirit  for  the  realisation  of  that  good. 

(a)  What  do  we  to-day  understand  the  universal 
good  to  be?  Science  tells  us  that  it  Is  correspondence 
with  environment;  Jesus  Christ  calls  it  "  the  kingdom 
of  God  "or  "of  heaven." 

We  are  accustomed  to  realise  that  the  welfare  of  any 
living  thing  depends  upon  correspondence  with  Its  en- 
vironment. It  only  lives  in  so  far  as  It  corresponds; 
It  only  lives  perfectly  by  perfect  correspondence. 
Taking  humanity  as  a  whole,  it  is  clear  that  man  will 
not  correspond  perfectly  with  his  physical  environment 
until  the  knowledge  and  skill  of  all  applied  science  ren- 
der him  no  longer  In  any  degree  the  sport  of  the  ele- 
ments but  their  master.  As  the  old  tradition  had  It 
that  God  brought  the  animals  one  by  one  to  Adam  to 
receive  their  names,  and  gave  him  dominion  over  them, 
so  science  is  bringing  to  mankind  the  forces  of  earth, 
air,  fire,  and  water  to  receive  their  names,  and  giving 
men  dominion  over  them.  An  Abraham  or  a  Heslod 
may  correspond  better  with  local  and  temporary  en- 
vironment than  does  a  modern  man  of  science,  but 
while  the  race  has  failed,  and  fails,  to  deal  rightly  with 
plague,  famine,  and  war,  genius  must  have  little  chance 
and  successive  nations  prematurely  perish.  What  has 
that  to  do  with  Jesus  of  Nazareth  and  His  kingdom  of 


II  GOD  IN  ACTION  55 

God?  Does  not  one  glance  at  our  world  to-day  show 
us  that  as  long  as  man  uses  each  small  advance  in 
knowledge  and  skill  to  subject  and  destroy  his  fellow- 
man  he  Is  not  in  correspondence  with  his  human  en- 
vironment, nor  forwarding  the  universal  knowledge  of 
constructive  arts?  The  utilisation  of  the  forces  of 
earth  for  human  welfare  can  only  be  achieved  by  broth- 
erhood and  co-operation.  Peace,  which  is  the  jump- 
ing-off  place  for  the  great  adventure  of  catching  and 
harnesslncr  the  elements  for  the  world's  welfare,  can 
only  be  obtained  by  learning  how  to  sympathise  with 
our  fellows,  learning  how  to  like  and  befriend  and  cor- 
respond with  them.  Man  is  the  greatest  factor  in 
man's  environment.  If,  then,  what  we  call  nature  Is 
working  for  man's  correspondence  with  his  environ- 
ment, it  Is  working  through  every  effort  that  tends  to 
endow  the  coming  race  with  kindly  and  good-humoured 
impulses,  with  a  store  of  skilful  methods  of  righting 
wrongs  and  governing  the  wrong-headed  by  friendly 
means  Instead  of  by  grim  disapprobation  or  cruel  sup- 
pression, by  laughter  rather  than  by  tears. ^ 

To  correspond  with  his  environment,  man  must  learn 
not  only  to  be  ready  if  need  be  to  die  rather  than  com- 
promise with  falsity,  but  also  to  forgive  to  seventy 
times  seven,  and  to  love  his  enemies.  If  the  push  of 
life  be  for  the  survival  of  those  who  can  best  corres- 
pond with  their  environment,  universal  brotherhood 
and  goodwill  is  the  far-off  event  towards  which  evolu- 
tion moves.  The  movement,  as  we  have  seen,  is  not 
mechanical,  for  the  mere  process  of  the  ages  does  not 
bring  wisdom.  It  must  always  depend  on  the  right 
choice  of  free  creatures.  The  character  of  God  the 
Spirit,  as  revealed  by  this  divine  purpose  of  universal 
goodwill,  is  the  same  as  that  revealed  by  Christ,  and 
also  by  every  prophetic  soul  that  has  had  glimpses  of 
the  truth.  To  put  it  more  adequately  —  Jesus  Christ 
gave  forth  dclinitely  the  good  news  of  the  harmony  to- 

1  This  subject   is  more   fully  rlcalt  with  in   the   present  writer's   essay  in   God 
and  the  Struggle  for  Existence  (i)ublislied  by  the  Student  Christian  Movement). 


56  THE  SPIRIT  ii 

ward  which  the  historic  process  tends,  and  explicitly 
declared  the  method  by  which  it  should  come.  This 
method  was  the  response  of  man  to  the  saving  pro- 
cesses of  the  Holy  Spirit  —  processes  of  forgiveness 
and  healing,  helpfulness  and  goodwill,  of  passion  for 
truth  and  reality,  and  a  true  comparison  of  man's  taw- 
dry notions  of  glory  with  the  beauty  of  nature  when- 
ever it  is  receptive  to  the  care  of  God.  The  harmony 
of  human  wills,  when  attained,  will  be  a  new  starting- 
point  for  unrestricted  racial  development;  but  to  us  it 
is  the  mountain-peak  which  we  must  reach  before  we 
can  see  further. 

Thus  our  question,  What  is  the  good  for  which  the 
Spirit  works?  would  find  an  easy  answer  if  we  could  be 
satisfied  by  a  far-off  future  event  and  a  future  culmina- 
tion of  our  race.  We  cannot  be  satisfied  with  what  is 
future,  except  as  it  explains  and  justifies  the  present  and 
the  past.  Such  a  culmination  would  justify  the  past 
and  present  of  the  race  as  a  whole,  but  it  could  not 
justify  the  mistakes  and  sufferings  of  the  Individuals  in 
each  generation. 

The  great  difficulty  in  recognising  the  Spirit's  work 
in  the  process  of  development  arises  from  the  fact  that 
the  individual,  and  the  single  generation,  is  constantly 
crushed  in  the  process,  without  apparent  opportunity 
of  escape.  The  great  armies  of  Humanity  march  on 
to  victory,  but  on  every  yard  of  the  advance  lie  the 
wounded  and  the  dead.  The  course  of  evolution,  con- 
sidered in  itself,  seems  wholly  careless  of  the  indi- 
vidual. 

Yet,  in  apparent  opposition  to  this  there  is  the 
striking  paradox  that,  considered  as  an  educative  pro- 
cess, it  has  educed,  and  does  educe,  in  men,  not  greater 
contempt  for  the  individual  in  comparison  with  the 
whole,  but  ever-increasing  respect  for  every  individual 
of  every  generation.  This  fact  —  that  the  claim  of 
the  individual  on  society  has  everywhere  through  long 
ages    become    more    and    more    clearly    recognised  — 


II  GOD  IN  ACTION  57 

points  perhaps  to  a  solution  of  the  difficulty.  The 
value  set  upon  the  individual  life,  its  well-being,  free- 
dom, and  education,  which  has  become  the  criterion  of 
higher  and  lower  in  our  estimate  of  national  progress, 
reveals,  if  anything  reveals,  the  character  of  the  Spir- 
it's work,  for  it  is  here  discovered  in  the  efflorescence  of 
the  great  principle  which  no  less  conspicuously  pene- 
trates the  struggle  for  existence,  showing  itself  in  pa- 
rental affection,  family  devotion,  and  the  tribal  bond 
—  the  principle  of  the  sacrifice  of  the  strong  for  the 
weak,  the  wise  for  the  ignorant,  the  righteous  for  the 
lawless.  If,  then,  we  can  accept  this  principle  —  which 
is,  indeed,  the  shadow  of  the  Cross  projected  by  the 
level  light  of  sunrise  across  all  the  ages  of  evolution  — 
as  indicating  the  character  of  the  Spirit,  we  may  reason- 
ably suppose  that  the  Spirit  has  His  own  ways  and 
means  of  compensating  the  individual  for  whatever  of 
failure  or  misery  has  been  thrust  upon  him. 

In  what  way  can  this  compensation  be  given?  We 
cannot  belie\'e  a  good  to  be  all-inclusive  unless  it  repre- 
sents the  fruition  of  the  desires  of  all  men  and  women 
who  have  lived,  and  must  still  live  and  die,  before  the 
era  of  human  triumph  which  we  may  descry  on  the  hor- 
izon of  this  world's  future.  It  is  on  salvation  for  the 
individual  that  Jesus  laid  His  emphasis,  and  we  must 
inquire  how  far  we  have  reason  to  believe  that  the 
Spirit  gives  to  each  living  soul  ample  opportunity  to 
enter  into  a  process  of  development  which  will  both 
bring  it  to  such  fruition  of  all  its  permanent  desires  as 
will  compensate  it  for  all  suffering  and  will  make  it  a 
co-operator  in  realising  the  universal  good. 

As  any  process  must  be  estimated  by  its  outcome,  let 
us  first  consider  the  case  of  those  souls  who  are  most 
vitally  Christianised,  frankly  admitting  that  vital 
Christianity  is  different  from  nominal  Christianity. 
The  (iospcl  ()(  Christ  teaches  us  that  full  salvation  de- 
pends upon  the  soul  setting  forth  to  save  the  world  in 
the  experience  of  being  himself  saved  by   the   Spirit. 


58  THE  SPIRIT  ii 

Salvation  is  offered  freely,  and  must  be  experienced  as  a 
gilt.  This  is  no  missionary  cant,  but  a  psychological 
tact.  The  result  of  the  experience  is  that  the  saved 
soul  so  loves  the  world  that  it  gives  its  all  that  the 
world  may  be  sa\ed.  Both  these  elements  are  inter- 
dependent, and  both  are  a  process.  Yet  from  the 
moment  that  the  soul  really  sees  God  in  Christ,  /.  e. 
sees  that  the  Spirit's  character  and  action  on  the  world 
may  be  interpreted  by  the  character  of  Christ,  it  knows 
the  fruition  of  all  its  desires  to  be  secure.  It  is  saved 
perfectly  and  ideally  in  prospect,  and  yet  it  will  for  ever 
continue  to  be  raised  to  fuller  vision.  Likewise,  the 
moment  the  soul  really  sees  God  in  Christ  it  also  sets 
forth  to  save  the  world.  It  can  no  other.  It  sees  the 
divine  character  giving  to  the  utmost  for  the  world's 
salvation,  and  by  that  sight  is  transformed  into  a  life- 
centre  whose  main  and  most  permanent  desire  is  to  live 
for  the  perfecting  of  all  things,  realising  the  prospec- 
tive joy  of  God  therein.  But  many  a  transient  and 
lower  desire  may  temporarily  intervene  and  be  followed 
—  as  a  child  may  chase  butterflies  hither  and  thither 
while  still  proceeding  in  the  direction  of  home.  The 
giving  up  of  all  by  the  soul  for  the  world's  salvation 
is  a  process,  as  the  experience  of  being  saved  is  a  pro- 
cess. Yet  from  the  moment  the  soul  really  sees  God  in 
Christ,  its  most  permanent  and  abiding  desire  is  to 
speed  further  and  further  in  the  great  adventure  of 
world-saving,  whether  by  the  avenue  of  truth,  of 
beauty,  or  of  moral  right.  Irreligious  it  can  never 
again  be,  for  the  universe  has  become  a  fane,  and  the 
love  of  God  its  light. 

There  are  very  many  who  see  this  vision  reflected 
in  the  best  thought  of  their  age,  and  are  themselves 
Inspired  by  it,  yet,  misled  by  the  blind  guidance  of 
His  nominal  exponents,  they  deny  Jesus  Christ  to  be  its 
source.  These,  because  really  inspired  by  Him,  though 
only  indirectly,  are  at  one  with  Him  in  the  Spirit's 
power.     On  the  other  hand,  undoubting  acceptance  of 


II  GOD  IN  ACTION  59 

the  most  correct  of  creeds  may  leave  the  soul  without 
the  vision,  still  working  for  its  own  salvation,  still  re- 
pulsive in  Its  zeal  for  what  it  holds  to  be  the  salvation 
of  the  world.  The  unthinking  acceptance  of  religious 
tradition,  the  docile  obedience  to  a  religious  rule,  may 
each  have  a  value  of  a  different  sort  for  different  souls, 
but  they  are  not  the  vision  of  God  in  Christ.  That 
vision  Is  the  realisation  that  the  supreme  Spirit  at 
work  In  all  life  has  the  character  of  Jesus  Christ.  The 
realisation  of  this  fact  may  be  sudden  or  gradual,  but 
It  Is  an  experience  which  transforms  any  self-regarding 
effort  to  attain  salvation  into  an  other-regarding  effort 
to  show  forth  the  beauty  of  God  to  whatever  coterie 
of  souls,  little  or  large,  may  form  its  world.  Can  It  be 
said  that  this  adventure  of  world-saving,  and  the  future 
toward  which  we  believe  it  tends,  will  afford  the  frui- 
tion of  all  desire? 

Before  answering  we  must  clear  away  any  narrow 
or  grotesque  pictures  of  world-saving  that  we  may  have 
formed.  There  are  as  many  ways  in  which  the  world 
of  men  may  be  effectively  helped  forward  into  co-opera- 
tion with  the  Divine  Spirit  as  there  are  men  and  women ; 
and  that  of  Itself  is  sufficient  evidence  that  the  Spirit 
has  for  each  a  unique  mission,  and  that  that  mission  will 
best  conserve  and  develop  all  the  powers  and  faculties 
of  each  soul.  Human  good  Is  a  trinity  of  truth  and 
beauty  and  social  welfare;  and  while  none  of  these  qual- 
ities can  really  exist  without  the  others,  the  vocations  of 
men  can  roughly  be  put  Into  three  classes,  according  as 
men  exercise  their  enterprise  an  ingenuity  to  augmc 
the  world-stock  of  any  one  of  these.  Heretofore  the 
phrase  "  soul-saving  "  has  been  too  exclusively  associ- 
ated with  strictly  pious  effort;  it  is  along  all  the  avenues 
opened  by  this  trinity  of  Ciod  that  the  Spirit  urges  and 
inspires  us  to  link  up  men  in  trust  and  fealty  to  the 
Source  of  Love  and  Life. 

Can  we,  indeed,  think  of  any  other  or  greater  frui- 
tion of  our  desires  than  the  exercise  and  development 


6o  THE  SPIRIT  ii 

of  all  our  powers  in  making  some  unique  and  lasting 
addition  to  the  good  of  the  whole?  What  artist,  what 
patriot,  what  self-seeker  even,  can  ask  for  more? 

But,  granted  that  this  creative  work  can  satisfy  those 
who  may  become  vitally  Christ-like  in  giving  them- 
selves as  instruments  of  the  Spirit  for  the  world's  sal- 
vation, can  we  infer  from  their  satisfaction  anything 
which  will  justify  the  suffering  of  those  innumerable 
lives  that  seem  to  have  been,  and  still  to  be,  crushed  in 
the  process  of  race  education?  Yes,  for  their  case 
proves  that  nature,  when  she  urges  to  correspondence 
with  environment,  is  the  instrument  of  the  Spirit  urg- 
ing the  race  to  inexhaustible  goodwill  as  well  as  to  all 
scientific  enterprise;  and  if  we  see  reason  to  believe  this, 
and  further  to  believe  that  the  individual  who  enters 
into  conscious  communion  with  the  Spirit  is  not  only 
led  into  the  fruition  of  all  his  own  permanent  desires, 
but  led  into  a  constantly  increasing  carefulness  for  the 
welfare  of  every  other  individual  life,  then  we  are 
bound  to  believe  that  the  character  of  God  is  indicated 
by  this  double  testimony.  Because  God  is  God,  each 
life  will  some  way  find  its  compensation  and  develop- 
ment. "  He  is  not  the  God  of  the  dead  but  of  the  liv- 
ing ";  life's  opportunities  do  not  end  on  earth. 

(h)  The  Christian  Church  should  be  the  nursery  of 
all  free  souls,  but,  like  the  rest  of  creation,  it  has  shown 
forth  no  transcendent  and  flawless  perfection.  It  is 
hardly  reasonable,  however,  on  that  account  to  deny 
it  to  be  a  characteristic  school  of  the  Spirit,  unless  we 
are  prepared  to  set  aside  the  claim  of  all  nature  to  be 
the  manifestation  of  God  because  of  the  chaotic  ele- 
ments of  harm  and  destruction  and  consequent  misery 
that  still  exist  in  the  world  as  it  now  is.  But  it  is  vital 
to  distinjTuish  between  the  inspiration  of  the  Church 
and  the  chaotic  evils  within  it  that  still  frustrate  that 
inspiration. 

The  man  who  sees  God  the  Spirit  in  the  world  or  in 
the  Church  must  bring  forward  his  tests  of  good  and 


II  GOD  IN  ACTION  6i 

true  and  beautiful,  and  claim  as  divine  in  the  whole  sys- 
tem only  what  tends  toward  the  good  and  true  and 
beautiful,  holding  that  such  tendencies  alone  point  in 
the  direction  in  which  the  whole  must  move  for  the 
accomplishment  of  the  divine  purpose.  We  shall  make 
mistakes,  but  we  cannot  escape  the  responsibility  of 
exercising  our  own  discrimination.  We  naturally  de- 
sire to  be  saved  the  trouble  of  search  and  discovery;  we 
passionately  desire  that  some  visible  finger  from  heaven 
should  point  out  to  us  the  track  of  the  Spirit;  but  if  it 
is  God's  way  that  we  should  find  out  in  what  the  holi- 
ness of  the  Spirit  consists  by  the  faithful  exploiting  of 
our  own  values  for  beauty  and  goodness  and  truth,  this 
end  could  not  be  attained  by  Infallible  external  revela- 
tion. Our  values  are  within  our  own  souls.  Jesus 
taught  that  we  must  first  find  ivithtn  us  the  kingdom  — 
the  purposes  and  works  of  the  Spirit  —  before  that 
kingdom  can  be  realised  in  the  complex  harmony  of  the 
external  life.  In  the  Church  we  must  fix  our  aspira- 
tion upon  increase  of  religious  insight  rather  than  upon 
any  repetition  of  the  past. 

The  great  tragedy  of  human  life  has  been  the 
amount  of  religious  force  that  has  been  expended  in 
vain  efforts  to  obtain  the  help  of  God.  The  word  re- 
ligion is  commonly  used  to  mean  all  human  activity  that 
is  in  intention  directed  Godward;  but  if  God's  Spirit  in- 
spires, not  everything,  but  only  what  is  good,  we  must 
recognise  that  much  of  man's  religious  activity  has  been 
and  is  directed  toward  something  merely  imagined  to 
be  God.  While  our  sense  of  justice  constrains  us  to 
believe  that  every  man  who  thinks  of  God  as  his  own 
highest  ideal  of  good  comes  into  touch  with  Him  when 
he  tries  to  worship  or  pray,  and  thereby  gives  the  Spirit 
opportunity  to  enhance  his  own  nature  and  the  natures 
of  those  for  whom  he  prays,  it  by  no  means  follows 
that  when  men  worship  and  entreat  a  Being  of  char- 
acter morally  inferior  to  themselves  they  will  come  by 
that  means  into  touch  with  Crcati\e  Power.      A  popu- 


62  THE  SPIRIT  II 

lation  visited  by  plac^ue  might  quite  innocently  believe 
that  the  disease  could  be  moved  magically  by  the  fiat  of 
God.  As  long  as  their  prayer  was  offered  to  a  God  as 
good  —  i.e.  as  kind  and  compassionate  —  as  they 
themselves  would  like  to  be,  we  must,  on  our  hypothe- 
sis, believe  that  the  prayer  would  be  answered  by  some 
enhancement  of  the  life  of  the  community;  that  hope, 
observation,  understanding,  and  physical  vitality  would 
be  quickened,  with  consequent  result  upon  health. 
Jesus  Christ  constantly  averred  that  it  is  faith  in  God's 
fatherliness  that  makes  the  human  spirit  accessible  to 
Him;  but,  if  so,  then  the  more  men  wailed  out  en- 
treaties to  a  hard-hearted  God,  the  more  they  per- 
formed penances  to  propitiate  Him,  the  more  they 
would  be  actually  turning  away  from  the  proffered  help 
of  Heaven.  For  men,  although  faulty  and  ignorant, 
know  not  only  how  to  give  good  things  to  their  chil- 
dren, but  how  to  give  them  kindly,  without  waiting  for 
the  child  to  grovel  and  wail  and  torture  itself.  A  nor- 
mal standard  of  kindness  was  never  far  to  seek :  even  in 
very  primitive  communities  the  claim  of  a  sick  child 
on  the  utmost  kindness  of  its  parents  is  recognised.  A 
sense  of  sin  need  not  confuse  human  judgement  in  this 
respect,  for  very  degraded  is  the  parent  who  refuses  to 
help  a  suffering  or  dying  child  because  it  has  previously 
been  naughty.  Prayer  and  worship  directed  to  a  God 
conceived  as  acting  on  the  level  of  such  a  degraded 
parent  would  naturally  tend  to  shut  the  soul  against  the 
Spirit  with  His  recreative  power.  If,  therefore,  men 
seek  to  obtain  either  spiritual  or  physical  good  from 
God  by  such  a  method,  they  are  sinning  against  the  light 
that  lighteth  every  man  coming  into  the  world.  The 
same  may  be  said  of  attempts  to  propitiate  God  by  rit- 
ual exactions  or  by  the  use  of  relics  and  mascots,  prac- 
tices that  no  father  or  kind  man  would  require  from  the 
needy  before  giving  aid.  The  single  or  simple  eye,  of 
which  Jesus  Christ  speaks,  sees  goodness  as  one  both 
in  God  and  man,  and  is  therefore  the  avenue  of  light 


II  GOD  IN  ACTION  63 

and  life.  The  father  in  the  parable  of  the  Prodigal 
Son  shows  God  seen  by  this  simple  eye.  If  we  believe 
that  the  Spirit  works  according  to  psychological  law  and 
awaits  this  child-like  simplicity  in  man,  the  failure  of 
much  religious  prayer  and  effort  can  be  explained. 

But  in  admitting  this  we  must  not  overlook  the  fact 
that  human  experience  is  always  complex.  In  so  far  as 
men  are  kind  to  each  other,  even  while  they  worship  a 
hard-hearted  notion  of  God,  they  come  unconsciously 
into  touch  with  the  Spirit  by  their  kindness.  The 
poetic  insight  of  the  Christ  depicts  the  virtues  of  pagans 
in  the  story  of  the  sheep  gathered  from  all  nations. 
Again,  good  people  whose  unchallenged  traditions  have 
led  them  to  believe  in  a  false  notion  of  God  are  often, 
after  performing  propitiatory  rites  to  an  unkind  God, 
in  a  frame  of  mind  to  turn  with  simple  faith  to  the 
notion  of  true  goodness  in  God,  and  thus  come  in  the 
end,  and  intermittently,  into  touch  with  the  Creative 
Spirit.  The  result  of  such  worship  we  should  expect 
to  be  a  combination  of  power  and  weakness,  insight 
and  superstition,  common  sense  and  folly,  magic  and 
science,  cruelty  and  love.  Religious  history  certainly 
bears  out  our  hypothesis  here. 

In  turning  from  the  imperfect  historic  actual  to  the 
better  thing  which  might  have  been,  we  are  bound  to 
question  again  the  mind  of  Christ.  What  concerns  us 
here  is  the  discovery  made  by  Jesus  Christ  of  the  power 
of  the  Spirit  and  the  conditions  under  which  that  power 
could  be  received,  not  as  the  occasional  afflatus  which 
men  had  recognised  from  all  time,  but  as  the  very  warp 
and  woof  of  the  web  of  man's  social  life,  the  daily  food 
by  which  men,  women,  and  children  could  be  satisfied 
and  empowered  for  the  greater  enterprise  —  dowered 
with  the  inward  resourceful  wisdom  that  can  make  the 
liberty  of  each  harmonise  with  the  good  of  all.  A 
community  thus  Inspired  was  to  be  the  new  reign,  or 
what  we  might  call  the  new  civilisation,  of  Heaven  or 
of  God.      Whether  realised  on  earth,  or  in  some  new 


64  THE  SPIRIT  ii 

plane  of  bcinj^  mystically  conceived,  what  was  essential 
was  the  power  of  the  Spirit.  "  Neither  be  ye  called 
masters,  tor  One  is  your  master."  "  It  is  not  ye  who 
speak,  but  the  Spirit  of  your  Father  that  speaketh  in 
you."  "  The  kingdom  of  heaven  is  within  you." 
"  Unto  you  it  is  given  to  know  the  mystery  of  the  king- 
dom." 

It  was  not  a  new  idea  that  divine  wisdom  might  be 
a  quasi-personal  emanation  from  God,  and  live  in  inti- 
mate fellowship  with  man ;  but  Jesus  saw  that  this  Spirit 
zcas  God,  and  cared  with  creative  purpose  for  despised 
field  flowers  and  sparrows,  for  the  body  of  man  as  well 
as  the  soul.  He  saw  that  this  Divine  Spirit  was  at  the 
same  time  the  emotion  that  surges  up  into  the  prac- 
tice of  parental  kindness,  the  instinctive  wit  of  all  true 
love,  and  also  the  eternal  source  and  goal  of  all. 

This  discovery  of  Jesus  —  which  He  called  the  mys- 
tery of  the  kingdom  —  was  nothing  less  than  such  in- 
sight into  the  very  heart  of  the  relation  of  life  to  its 
environment,  as  enabled  Him  to  see  the  goal  from  the 
starting-point,  to  see  the  divine,  far-off  ideal  toward 
which  the  whole  race  must  move.  He  saw  the  way  in 
which  men,  while  still  in  a  false  civilisation,  must  live  so 
as  not  only  to  bring  about  the  true  order,  but  in  the 
midst  of  the  old  to  grasp  at  once  the  joy  and  liberty 
and  fellowship  of  the  new.  This  was  a  fetch  of  genius 
—  the  genius  at  once  of  the  poet,  the  prophet,  and  the 
statesman;  yet  Jesus  seems  to  have  drawn  In  this  wis- 
dom as  simply  as  He  drew  His  breath.  To  Him  the 
method  was.  In  truth,  very  simple;  it  was  the  opening 
of  the  heart  to  the  creating  Spirit  which  could  not  only 
teach  that  all  things  In  the  universe  are  held  together 
by  attraction,  not  compulsion,  but  also,  at  every  step 
of  the  way,  could  show  how  this  great  principle  of  ani- 
mation by  love  may  be  translated  into  life. 


Ill 

THE  PSYCHOLOGY  OF  POWER 


BY 


Captain  J.  A.  HADFIELD,  M.A.  (Oxon.),  M.B.  (Edin.; 

ASHHURST    NEUROLOGICAL    WAR    IIOSriTAL,    OXFORD 


ANALYSIS 

The  Psychology  of  Power. 

The  urgency  of  the  problem  of  energy  and  fatigue. 
The  view  of  tlie  piiysicist,  and  of  the  religious. 
The  psychological  view. 

Evidence  of  Extraordinary  Powers. 
Illustrated  from  various  fields. 
Conclusions  from  these  illustrations: 

(i)    Existence  of  an  ample  re-supply  of  strength. 

(2)  Not  attained  by  power  of  will. 

(3)  Originate  in  the  instinctive  emotions. 

The  Mental  Factor  in  Fatigue. 

I.  Mental  origin  of  fatigue  demonstrated  by  — 
{a)    Experiments  in  hjpnotic  suggestion. 
(b)   Experiments  in  physiology. 
These  prove  the  importance  and  priority  of  mental  fatigue. 
Biological  reasons  why  mind  is  fatigued  before  the  body. 
II.  Forms  of  fatigue: 
(i )    Physical  fatigue. 

(2)  Over-sensitiveness  o.  mind  to  physical  fatigue. 
Application  of  this  to  everyday  life. 

(3)  False  interpretation  of  mental  fatigue  as  physical. 

(4)  Purely  mental  fatigue,  due  to  mental  conflict. 

The  Infirmity  of  the  Will. 

Power  does  not  originate  in  the  will. 

Illustrations   to    prove    impotence   of    will    against   conviction    and 

suggestion. 
Evil  habits  unconquered. 
Will  requires  power  of  the  emotions. 

The  Instincts. 

The  force  of  ideas:  will:  emotions. 

Instinctive  emotions  the  real  driving  force  of  our  lives. 
The  importance  of  instincts  in  modern  life. 

Policy  of  suppression  a  false  one.     Passion  necessary  in  morality 
and  religion. 

The  Instincts  and  Morality. 

Is  power  derived  from  the  instincts  moral? 

(i)   Many  instincts  in  themselves  beneficent,  e.g.  maternal. 

{2)    Instincts   apparently   anti-social   may  be   directed   to   useful 

ends. 
(3)    In    the    long    run    the    maximum    power    is    gained    when 
instincts     are    harmonised    and    directed    by    the    reason 
towards  worthy  ends. 

The  Conflict  of  Instincts. 

Of  will  and  emotion:  of  emotion  with  emotion. 

Illustration. 

Minor  conflicts  exemplified  in  worry  and  anxiety. 


Ill         THE  PSYCHOLOGY  OF  POWER         67 

The  Cokversion  of  the  Instincts. 

Living  beings  raise  the  potential  of  energy. 

Illustration    of    the    conversion    of    the    instincts    and    instinctive 

emotions. 
Hunting:  curiosit)':  pugnacity. 

Fear:  necessary  fear;  morbid  fear;  fear  that  stimulates. 
Sex:  its  overflow  into  the  parental  instinct. 
Self-assertion:  aggression;  submission;  confidence. 

Confidence  .^nd  F.mth. 

Derived  from  instinct  of  self-assertion. 
Essential  to  success  and  power. 
Illustrations. 

The  Expenditure  of  Power. 

Damming  up  the  flow  of  energj-  leads  to  stagnation  and  fatigue. 
The  inspiration  of  a  purpose. 
Strength  comes  to  those  who  expend  it. 

Energy  and  Rest. 

The  cause  of  fatigue  in  mental  conflict. 

The  remedy  is  mental  quietude. 

The  characteristic  neurasthenic. 

Physiological  law  of  alternation  of  activity  and  rest. 

The  art  of  resting. 

The  Source  of  Energy. 

Physiological,  psychological,  and  philosophical  theories. 
Summary. 

The  Dynamic  of  Religion. 

The    power   of    the    Christian    religion    in    abolishing   conflict   and 

directing  the  instinctive  energies  to  high  purposes. 
Power  characteristic  of  primitive  Christianity. 
Restfulness  and  peace  also  characteristic. 
Christianity  as  a  moral  healing  force. 

Conclusion. 


Ill 

THE  PSYCHOLOGY  OF  POWER 

The  increasing  pressure  of  modern  life,  with  its  anxi- 
eties and  cares,  constitutes  an  ever-augmenting  tax  upon 
our  strength.  It  is  hardly  surprising  that  nervous 
breakdowns  are  common,  and  that  neurasthenia,  or 
nerve  fatigue,  is  the  most  significant  disease  of  the  age. 
Yet  while,  on  the  one  hand,  we  see  men  and  women  so 
ill-adapted  to  face  the  demands  of  life  that  the  slight- 
est exertion  produces  fatigue;  on  the  other,  we  are 
called  upon  to  witness  exhibitions  of  power  which  fill  us 
with  wonder.  The  increasing  demand  for  the  power 
and  energy  requisite  to  face  the  strain  compels  us  to  in- 
vestigate the  sources  of  their  supply.  The  purpose  of 
my  study  is  to  direct  attention  to  the  problem  of  the 
sources  of  human  energy  and  power. 

It  is  commonly  supposed  that  in  each  of  us  there  is 
a  reservoir,  as  it  were,  containing  a  certain  supply  of 
energy.  This  energy  is  said  to  be  derived  from  the 
food  we  eat  and  the  air  we  breathe,  and  to  be,  there- 
fore, strictly  limited  in  amount.  When  our  expendi- 
ture is  excessive  our  supply  of  energy  runs  very  low, 
and  we  consequently  suffer  from  a  feeling  of  fatigue. 
Such  is  the  theory  of  the  physicist.  The  natural  con- 
sequence of  this  belief  in  the  physical  character  and 
the  limited  supply  of  our  energy  is  that  we  are  careful 
to  economise  our  little  store  of  strength,  to  husband  our 
resources,  lest  by  excess  of  expenditure  we  find  the 
springs  of  our  life  run  dry. 

In  contrast  with  this  view,  there  have  been  men,  and 
chiefly  among  them  religious  men,  who  have  held  that 
if  our  powers  seem  to  fail,  it  is  not  because  all  the  en- 
ergy available  is  used  up,  but  because  its  flow  is  checked, 

68 


Ill         THE  PSYCHOLOGY  OF  POWER         69 

either  by  the  channel  being  blocked  up  or  by  our  inabil- 
ity to  use  it  aright.  The  chief  cause  of  fatigue  is  not 
exhaustion  but  stagnation.  The  way  to  power,  there- 
fore, is  not  to  harbour  our  resources  and  store  up  our 
strength  by  inactivity,  but  to  find  the  way  to  tap  the 
resources  of  power  at  our  disposal,  so  that  they  may 
flood  our  life  and  fill  us  with  energy. 

Of  the  two  theories  above  stated  modern  psychology 
tends,  on  the  whole,  to  support  the  second.  At  least 
the  fact  that  (whatever  their  ultimate  origin)  there  are 
resources  of  power,  whose  existence  we  do  not  ordinar- 
ily recognise  but  which  can  be  made  available  for  the 
purposes  of  our  daily  life,  is  one  which  has  been  firmly 
established  by  the  scientific  researches  of  recent  years. 
In  this  Essay  I  propose,  in  the  first  place,  to  produce 
evidence  of  the  existence  of  resources  of  power  nor- 
mally untapped;  secondly,  I  shall  show  that  these  are 
psychic  rather  than  physical  in  character;  and,  after  dis- 
cussing their  relation  to  the  instinctive  emotions  and  to 
the  will,  shall  consider  the  means  by  which  they  can  be 
made  available. 

EviDE-NCE  OF  Extraordinary  Powers 

I  cannot  do  better  than  introduce  the  subject  to  the 
reader  by  one  or  two  illustrations.  A  patient  of  mine, 
a  tailor  by  trade,  was  buried  by  a  high  explosive  shell 
in  France.  One  of  the  striking  features  of  his  case  was 
extreme  weakness,  the  slightest  exertion  or  a  short  walk 
producing  fatigue.  In  the  course  of  the  treatment  I 
induced  him  under  hypnosis  to  remember  the  details  of 
the  incident,  and  made  him  live  through  it  all  again  — 
the  terrifying  explosion,  the  debris  burying  him  up  to 
his  neck,  and  a  great  baulk  of  timber  tottering  above 
his  head  in  act  to  fall.  By  the  recollection  of  these 
things  he  was  thrown  into  a  condition  of  extreme  ter- 
ror, and  began  to  fight  like  a  madman.  Hinging  himself 
on  the  floor  and  dragging  the  bed  down  over  him,  seiz- 
ing a  heavy  armchair  and  flinging  it  across  the  room, 


70  THE  SPIRIT  ill 

and  generally  putting  forth  such  extraordinary  strength 
that  it  required  four  men  to  hold  him  down.  The 
strength  he  exhibited  appeared  almost  superhuman, 
and  it  was  quite  beyond  his  voluntary  power,  for  when 
he  was  awake  his  greatest  exertion  of  will  served  only 
to  emphasise  his  weakness  and  impotence.  Further- 
more, when  he  was  wakened  from  the  attack,  far  from 
being  fatigued,  he  was  relieved  and  refreshed,  and 
spontaneously  told  me  how  much  better  he  felt. 

Similar  exhibitions  of  strength  are  quite  common  in 
men  swayed  and  mastered  by  a  great  emotion.  Such 
strength  is  typical  also  of  madness,  in  which  strong 
bonds  are  broken,  iron  bars  are  wrenched  loose,  and 
extraordinary  feats  of  endurance  are  performed. 
What  is  the  secret  of  such  power?  In  all  these  cases 
men  seem  to  be  tapping  resources  of  strength,  whether 
from  within  or  from  without,  which,  if  we  could  dis- 
cover and  use,  would  rescue  us  from  feeble  ineffective- 
ness to  a  life  of  untold  possibilities.  We  look  upon 
such  an  exhibition  of  strength  with  much  the  same  feel- 
ings as  when  we  behold  the  lightning  rend  the  heavens 
and  tear  up  oaks  by  the  roots  —  if  only  we  could  seize 
and  store  up  such  energy  and  devote  it  to  the  uses  of 
our  daily  life ! 

The  endurance  and  strength  of  men  fighting  against 
fearful  odds  when  they  are  "  up  against  it  "  is  noto- 
rious, and  many  instances  could  be  given  from  the  war. 
Another  of  my  patients  had  suddenly  found  himself  in 
a  trench  containing  six  Germans.  Realising  that  he 
was  cornered  he  fought  with  fury,  and  succeeded  in 
killing  three  of  them  before  he  was  stunned  by  one  of 
the  survivors.  A  corporal,  whose  courage  won  the 
V.  C,  was  for  several  days  cut  off  from  our  troops,  was 
exposed  the  whole  time  to  bombardment  (subsisting 
meanwhile  on  the  barest  rations),  and  yet,  in  spite  of 
the  awful  strain,  he  came  out  feeling  cheerful,  elated, 
and  without  fatigue.  Several  men  with  him  had  the 
endurance  to  pass  through  the  same  experience,  but  at 


Ill         THE  PSYCHOLOGY  OF  POWER         71 

the  end  were  exhausted  and  broke  down.  The  cor- 
poral had  evidently  discovered  sources  of  power  which 
were  not  exhausted  by  the  terrible  strain  he  underwent, 
but  provided  an  ample  re-supply. 

One  of  my  patients,  suffering  from  an  obstinate  neu- 
rasthenia, asked  for  leave  one  day  because  his  wife,  the 
mother  of  six  little  children,  had  fallen  ill  with  pneu- 
monia consequent  on  influenza,  and,  owing  to  the  epi- 
demic, could  secure  no  doctor  except  for  the  one  visit 
in  which  her  condition  had  been  diagnosed.  He  had 
been  a  most  despondent  and  depressed  individual, 
scarcely  ever  speaking  to  any  one  else  in  the  ward,  and 
left,  still  suffering  from  the  tiredness  and  exhaustion 
typical  of  neurasthenia.  He  returned  some  days  after, 
looking  bright  and  cheerful,  and  almost  his  first  words 
to  me  were,  "  I  shall  never  doubt  the  power  of  prayer 
again,  sir."  In  addition  to  the  worry  with  the  chil- 
dren, he  had  had  the  great  anxiety  of  nursing  his  wife 
through  a  very  serious  illness  without  the  aid  of  a  doc- 
tor, and  had  been  up  day  and  night  in  his  devoted  la- 
bours. It  is  only  those  who  have  passed  through  a 
strain  of  that  kind  who  know  what  it  means;  but  it  is 
equally  true  that  they  alone  know  the  mighty  resources 
that  come  to  our  aid  in  the  time  of  extremity.  In  this 
case,  his  keenness  to  bring  about  the  recovery  of  his 
wife,  and  the  conviction  of  divine  assistance,  buoyed 
him  up  during  the  time  of  anxiety;  and  after  the  strain 
was  over,  the  exhilaration  of  triumph  saved  him  from 
the  relapse  that  people  too  often  bring  on  themselves 
by  their  lack  of  confidence. 

Four  years  ago,  at  midnight,  I  witnessed  an  explo- 
sion at  a  great  munition  factory,  and  afterwards  heard 
that  a  woman,  after  her  day's  work,  had  risen  from  bed 
and,  in  anxiety  for  the  safety  of  her  husband  and  son, 
had  run  practically  the  whole  distance  of  seven  miles  to 
the  scene  of  the  explosion  in  an  incredibly  short  time. 

William  McDougall  quotes  the  case  of  a  boy  who, 
being  chased  by  a  furious  animal,  leaped  a  fence  which 


72  THE  SPIRIT  III 

he  could  nc\'cr  afterwards  scale  even  as  a  prown  man, 
and  after  continuous  athletic  training.  ihc  emotion 
of  fear  liberated  powers  which  his  strength  of  will 
could  never  equal. 

The  reader  will  be  able  to  adil  many,  and  perhaps 
more  striking,  cases  than  those  I  have  mentioned. 
Most  men,  indeed,  have  experienced  the  invigorating 
effect  of  an  overmastering  emotion  whose  power  is  ex- 
pressed not  only  in  mental  vigour,  but  in  physical  man- 
ifestations—  the  hot  rush  of  blood  in  the  veins,  the 
quickening  pulse,  the  deep  strong  breathing,  the  quiver- 
ing nerve,  the  tense  muscle,  and  the  inrush  of  power 
which  fortifies  the  soul  and  renders  it  quick  to  act  and 
brave  to  endure. 

Glancing  over  these  illustrations  of  extraordinary 
powers,  we  are  struck  with  three  outstanding  facts. 

(i)  Under  certain  conditions  extraordinary  expen- 
diture of  energy  can  take  place  zvithout  equivalent  fa- 
tigue. It  is  generally  assumed  that  such  outbursts  of 
power  must  end  in  a  relapse  leaving  the  exhausted  man 
or  woman  broken  in  health.  This  undoubtedly  often 
occurs,  but  is  by  no  means  necessary,  and  did  not  in  fact 
occur  in  the  cases  that  I  have  quoted  from  my  own  ex- 
perience. The  fatigue  consequent  on  great  exertion 
seems  to  bear  no  necessary  relation  to  the  amount  of 
energy  expended.  One  can  become  fatigued,  like  the 
neurasthenic,  on  very  slight  exertion;  but,  on  the  other 
hand,  as  in  these  cases,  men,  essentially  no  different 
from  ourselves,  are  seen  to  exhibit  extraordinary  pow- 
ers without  any  apparent  fatigue.  The  successful  issue 
of  a  great  endeavour  causes  the  gladness  of  victory 
to  refresh  the  soul.  This  fact  suggests  to  us  the  hy- 
pothesis that,  while  our  energy  is  being  used  up,  there 
is  an  ample  store  of  energy  to  take  its  place  if  we  could 
but  discover  and  conform  to  the  law  of  its  supply:  "  the 
barrel  of  meal  wastes  not,  neither  does  the  cruse  of  oil 
fail."  The  power  which  can  sustain  us  during  the  trial 
can  renew  our  strength  when  victory  is  won. 


Ill         THE  PSYCHOLOGY  OF  POWER         73 

(2)  We  observe  that  these  powe>s  are  greater  than 
any  at  the  disposal  of  the  conscious  will.  The  most 
strenuous  efforts  to  walk  made  by  the  soldier  who  had 
been  buried  ended  only  in  weakness;  the  athlete  could 
never  leap  the  fence  again;  the  patient  who  has  passed 
through  the  time  of  anxiety  and  strain  with  his  wife's 
illness  felt  that,  though  his  will  was  feeble,  some  other 
power  laid  hold  of  his  life  and  gave  it  strength. 

(3)  As  to  the  origin  of  these  powers,  those  who  ex- 
perience them  can  give  no  more  account  than  the  on- 
looker. In  olden  times  such  outbursts  of  strength  were 
looked  upon  sometimes  as  being  due  to  possession  by 
evil  spirits;  at  other  times,  as  in  the  story  of  Samson, 
the  amazed  beholders  exclaimed,  "  The  spirit  of  the 
Lord  came  mightily  upon  him."  To  the  scientific  ob- 
server, however,  there  is  one  very  significant  phenome- 
non. In  every  case  these  powers  are  associated  with 
one  of  the  fundamental  instinctive  emotions  —  whether 
of  fear  in  the  buried  soldier  and  the  athlete,  tender- 
ness in  the  husband  and  the  wife,  or  in  the  other  cases, 
the  instincts  of  self-preservation  rnd  pugnacity.  It 
would  look  as  if  it  were  only  when  instinctive  emotions 
like  these  are  aroused  that  energies  are  liberated  ade- 
quate to  sweep  away  all  obstacles  and  take  complete 
mastery  of  our  lives. 

These  points  we  shall  discuss  in  order,  taking  up 
first  the  question  of  fatigue,  then  illustrating  the  in- 
firmity of  the  will,  and,  lastly,  the  power  of  the  instinc- 
tive emotions. 

The  Mental  Factor  in  Fatigue 

If  we  are  to  discover  the  sources  of  strength  we  must 
first  investigate  the  causes  of  fatigue.  There  is  a  fa- 
tigue that  comes  from  the  body,  and  a  fatigue  that  is  of 
the  mind;  and  tliese  two  forms  of  fatigue  are  very 
closely  associated,  although  they  are  separable  in  or- 
igin. A  mile  walk  with  a  bore  is  more  fatiguing  than 
twenty   miles   with    the    lady    of   your   choice.      Disap- 


74  THE  SPIRIT  III 

pointmcnt  will  leave  us  tired  out.  The  desert  traveller 
is  about  to  fall  exhausted,  when  the  sight  of  an  oasis 
will  revive  his  spirits  and  give  him  energy  to  plod  on 
for  miles. 

We  have  already  observed  in  the  illustrations  of  ex- 
traordinary powers  —  the  endurance  of  men  fighting 
with  their  backs  to  the  wall,  or  buoyed  up  by  a  great 
hope  —  that  great  emotions  can  endow  men  and  women 
with  almost  superhuman  strength.  On  the  other  hand, 
the  neurasthenic,  tired  with  the  slightest  exertion,  is 
suffering  from  a  fatigue  due  sometimes  to  despair  or 
stagnation  of  the  mind,  rendering  the  body  lifeless  and 
inert,  sometimes  to  discouragement  resulting  from  a 
conviction  of  bodily  debility.  This  is  the  type  of  fa- 
tigue from  which  most  of  us  normally  suffer.  It  may 
take  the  form  of  a  feeling  of  boredom,  of  ennui,  of  the 
want  of  ideals  and  ambitions,  which  makes  the  soul  limp 
and  exhausts  the  body;  or  it  may  express  itself  in  a 
helpless  inability  to  cope  with  work  in  which  we  are 
really  interested.  In  all  these  instances  it  can  be  shown 
that  it  is  the  mind  that  has  flagged  and  become  fa- 
tigued; when  the  mind  is  revived  it  finds  the  body  ready 
and  prepared  to  answer  to  its  call. 

The  mental  origin  of  fatigue  may  be  illustrated  by 
two  experiments — the  one  psychological,  the  other 
physiological.  {a)  In  the  first,  an  experiment  in  hyp- 
notic suggestion,  we  shall  see  how  either  fatigue  or 
strength  of  body  can  be  brought  about  purely  by  a  men- 
tal attitude.  {b)  In  the  second,  an  experiment  first 
devised  by  Mosso,  we  shall  see  that  of  all  the  functions 
that  come  into  play  in  the  performance  of  any  action, 
the  mind  is  the  first  to  be  fatigued;  and  it  is  therefore 
with  fatigue  of  the  mind  that  we  have  to  concern  our- 
selves most. 

(a)  Before  describing  the  experiment  in  hypnotic 
suggestion  it  is,  perhaps,  well  to  say  that  the  old  view 
that  in  hypnosis  some  virtue,  fluid,  or  power  goes  out 
from  the  hypnotiser  to  the  subject,  is  now  completely 


Ill         THE  PSYCHOLOGY  OF  POWER         75 

discredited.     The   essential   feature   of   hypnotic   sug- 
gestion is  the  communication  of  an  idea  to  the  mind  of 
the  patient;  by  hypnotic  suggestion  we  inhibit  for  the 
moment  the  critical  powers  of  the  mind,  and  get  the 
mind  into  such  a  condition  of  receptivity  that  any  idea 
introduced  into  it  is  accepted  without  question  and,  for 
the  time  being,  holds  complete  sway.     The  hypnotist 
does  not,   as  is   sometimes  supposed,   impose  his  will 
upon  a  reluctant  subject;  he  merely  suggests  an  idea  to 
the  mind  of  the  patient  under  conditions  which  predis- 
pose the  patient  to  accept  and  appropriate  it  as  his  own. 
To  illustrate  this  point  I  may  be  pardoned  for  quot- 
ing  the   words   of   a    patient.      "  When    I    came,"    he 
writes,  "  I  thought  I  was  going  to  be  doped;  that  you 
were  going  to  put  something  in  me,  perhaps  something 
I  did  not  like.      Now  I  know  that  I  have  lived  for  years 
in  a  cellar;  you  have  lifted  me  out  and  liberated  what 
was  in  me."  ^ 

To  return  to  my  experiment.  I  asked  three  men  to 
submit  themselves  to  test  the  effect  of  mental  sugges- 
tion on  their  strength,  which  was  measured  by  grip- 
ping a  dynamometer.  I  tested  them  ( i )  in  their  nor- 
mal waking  condition;  (2)  after  suggesting  to  them  un- 
der hypnosis  that  they  were  "weak";  (3)  after  sug- 
gesting under  hypnosis  that  they  were  "  very  strong." 
In  each  case  the  men  were  told  to  grip  the  dynamo- 
meter as  tightly  as  they  could  —  that  is  to  say,  to  exert 
the  will  to  the  utmost.  Under  hypnosis  the  mind  is 
very  suggestible,  and  the  response  to  the  suggestions  of 
weakness  and  strength  gave  very  remarkable  results. 
In  the  normal  waking  condition  the  men  gave  an  ave- 
rage grip  of  loi  lbs.  When,  under  hypnosis,  I  had 
given  the  men  the  idea  that  they  were  very  weak,  the 
average  grip  was  only  29  lbs.,  one  of  them,  a  prize- 
fighter, remarking  that  his  arm  felt  "  tiny,  just  like  a 
baby's."  My  suggestions  of  strength  produced  an 
average  grip  of  142  lbs.  as  against  the  loi  lbs.  which 

1  For  a   fuller  riiscussion  of  the   n.ntiirc  of  the  ftntr  of  hypnosis,    I   may  refer 
the  reader  to  my  article  on  "  The  Mind  .mil  llic  liraiii,"  in   Immortality,  pp.  jj  fT. 


76  THE  SPIRIT  m 

was  the  best  tlic\'  ccniKl  tlo  in  their  normal  waking  con- 
ditions. A  second  test,  measured  by  the  time  occupied 
in  holding  out  a  weight,  gave  similar  results.  In  brief, 
when  I  suggested  "  weakness,"  the  full  flood  of  energy 
was  checked  and  the  men  were  capable  of  only  one- 
third  of  their  normal  strength,  whereas  by  suggestion 
of  "  strength  "  latent  powers  were  liberated  and  their 
normal  strength  increased  by  half  as  much  again. 

Such  an  experiment  shows  us  that,  when  our  minds 
are  depressed  with  the  idea  of  weakness,  our  strength 
may  be  diminished  by  two-thirds;  whereas  if  we  have 
the  stimulus  of  a  great  inspiration  our  strength  may 
thereby  be  increased  by  one-half.  It  is  a  conclusion  of 
the  utmost  importance  for  practical  life.  The  weak- 
ness that  overtook  the  men  when  they  felt  they  were 
weak  is  exactly  what  we  observe  in  those  suffering  from 
neurasthenia.  In  these  men  there  was  produced  an  ar- 
tificial neurasthenia.  The  neurasthenic,  whose  tired- 
ness makes  him  a  burden  to  himself  and  to  every  one 
else,  is  in  the  same  case  as  these  three  men  when  their 
minds  were  obsessed  by  the  idea  of  weakness  so  that 
they  could  grip  only  29  lbs.  He,  like  them,  is  physi- 
cally strong,  but  he  is  overmastered  by  the  feeling  that 
he  has  no  strength,  and  therefore  is  easily  fatigued. 
The  radical  defect,  both  in  the  neurasthenic  and  in  these 
three  men  when  weakness  was  suggested,  is  in  the  mind. 
They  believed  they  were  weak  and  fatigued,  and  this 
belief  produced  the  reality.  According  to  their  faith 
was  it  done  to  them.  Once  let  the  mind  lose  confidence 
in  its  strength,  and  its  energy  flows  away  like  water. 

On  the  other  hand,  the  condition  of  the  three  men 
when,  being  obsessed  with  the  idea  of  strength,  they 
could  grip  142  lbs.  illustrates  the  cases  of  men  of  whom 
we  have  given  examples,  who  were  possessed  of  an  ab- 
normal energy  for  which  they  themselves  could  not  ac- 
count, but  which  made  them  capable  of  almost  incred- 
ible feats  of  strength  and  endurance. 

It  would  seem,  then,  that  the  limits  of  possibility  in 


Ill         THE  PSYCHOLOGY  OF  POWER  77 

our  daily  lives  are  defined  less  by  the  body  than  by  the 
mind,  and  that  the  resources  of  power  are  psychic 
rather  than  physical  in  character. 

(b)  Mosso's  famous  experiment  proves  that,  of  all 
the  factors  involved  in  the  performance  of  any  action, 
the  mind  is  the  first  to  be  fatigued.  In  an  ordinary 
voluntary  action,  say,  the  moving  of  an  arm,  the  im- 
pulse passes  from  the  mind  and  will  by  means  of  the 
cells  of  the  brain,  down  the  nerves,  passing  through  the 
nerve-endings  to  the  muscle.  By  stimulating  the  nerve 
with  electric  shocks,  one  can  produce  contractions  of  the 
muscle,  but  after  a  time  these  contractions  cease,  owing 
to  fatigue;  but  if  the  muscle  alone  is  then  stimulated, 
the  muscle  continues  to  contract.  That  is  to  say.  It 
is  not  the  muscle  that  has  been  fatigued.  By  similar 
experiments  it  is  proved  that  neither  is  it  the  nerve  nor 
the  nerve-cell  that  first  is  fatigued,  but  the  nerve-end- 
ing; indeed,  the  nerve-cell  and  the  nerve  are  found  to  be 
almost  unfatiguable.  But  press  the  experiment  a  stage 
further  and  the  more  important  question  then  arises, 
whether  the  fatigue  may  not  be  psychic  rather  than 
physical  in  origin.  Is  it  the  mind  or  the  nervous  sys- 
tem that  is  first  fatigued?  Mosso's  experiment  helps 
to  decide  this  question.  A  man's  fatiguability  is  tested 
by  trying  a  weight  to  his  finger  and  making  him  flex 
and  extend  the  finger  until  the  onset  of  fatigue  prevents 
him  moving  his  finger  any  more.  If  the  nerve  to  the 
finger  is  then  immediately  stimulated  by  a  weak  electric 
current,  without  giving  time  for  the  fatigue  to  pass  off, 
the  finger  continues  to  flex  and  extend.  In  other 
words,  the  fatigue  does  not  originate  in  nerve,  nerve- 
ending,  or  muscle,  which  are  all  still  quite  active,  but  in 
the  will.'  Ihe  mind  is  fatigued,  whereas  the  body  is 
prepared  to  go  on:  the  flesh  is  willing,  but  the  spirit  is 
weak. 

The  deduction  that  wc  draw  from  this  experiment  is 

1  It  is  possible,  of  course,  to  hold  that  toxins  formed  in  the  body  poison  the 
brain  (see  below,  (in  Physical  I-'atlKne)  and  thus  produce  the  fatitfue,  but  it  is 
inconceivable  that  the  amount  of  waste  products  from  the  exercise  of  one  finger 
could  have   such   wide-reaching  effects. 


78  THE  SPIRIT  ill 

that  tlir  vi'tud  is  exhausted  before  tJie  body.  And  this 
fact,  strange  as  it  may  seem  at  first  sight,  is  explicable 
on  biological  grounds,  and  that  for  two  reasons. 

The  first  reason  is  obvious.  The  mind  is  the  latest 
part  of  the  human  organism  to  have  developed  in  evo- 
lution, and  is  therefore  the  least  completely  adapted  to 
its  environment.  In  the  face  of  the  chances  and  re- 
buffs of  life  it  frequently  finds  itself  nonplussed:  it  can- 
not live  as  it  would  because  of  the  limitations  surround- 
ing it;  it  turns  away  sick  at  the  problems  it  has  to  face. 
From  time  to  time  we  actually  get  cases  from  the  seat 
of  Avar  of  men  who  have  "  regressed  "  to  childhood, 
behaving  almost  exactly  as  children  of  two  or  three 
years  old.  In  these  cases  the  mind,  unable  any  longer 
to  endure  the  strain  of  living  under  such  conditions,  be- 
comes tired  out  and  reverts  once  again  to  the  golden 
age  of  a  protected  infancy. 

The  second  biological  reason  would  appear  to  be 
that  the  body  may  be  protected  from  exhaustion.  The 
susceptibility  of  the  mind  to  fatigue  is  valuable  in  warn- 
ing the  body  of  its  approach  to  the  danger  zone,  and  so 
preventing  the  body  from  going  too  far.  If  it  were 
not  for  this  warning  we  might  sometimes  be  carried 
away  by  our  enthusiasm.  The  man  of  genius  has,  in- 
deed, an  e:xtraordinary  capacity  for  work,  because  his 
mind  is  inspired  by  a  great  enthusiasm;  but  his  inspira- 
tion might  urge  him  to  deeds  too  strenuous  for  his  out- 
worn body,  and  the  world  would  perhaps  be  poorer  for 
his  loss.  Thus  nature  determines  that  the  mind  shall 
normally  be  fatigued  Hrst,  so  that  he  will  not  put  too 
great  a  strain  on  the  body.  But  in  the  majority  of  men 
(if  we  may  assume  that  the  majority  are  not  men  of 
genius)  such  mental  fatigue  occurs  long  before  we  get 
anywhere  near  the  danger  zone  of  bodily  fatigue,  and 
the  body  is  rarely  given  the  opportunity  of  showing  the 
extent  of  its  endurance. 

The  discussion  so  far  has  put  us  in  the  position  of 
being  able  to  affirm  the  dominant  influence  of  the  mind 


Ill         THE  PSYCHOLOGY  OF  POWER         79 

in  the  production  of  fatigue,  and  to  sum  up  the  four 
main  forms  of  fatigue:      (i)    Purely  physical  fatigue; 

(2)  Over-sensitiv^eness  of  the  mind  to  physical  fatigue; 

(3)  False  interpretation  of  mental  fatigue  as  physical; 

(4)  Purely  mental  fatigue,  chiefly  due  to  the  conflict  in 
the  mind  itself  between  will  and  emotion,  or  between 
the  difterent  emotions  themselves. 

( 1 )  Physical  fatigue. —  I  would  not  have  it  assumed 
that,  in  emphasising  mental  fatigue,  I  am  denying  there 
is  such  a  thing  as  physical  fatigue.  During  the  exercise 
of  the  muscles  there  are  formed  certain  waste  products 
which  are  supposed  gradually  to  poison  the  nervous  sys- 
tem; and  after  a  great  physical  effort  changes  are  seen 
to  take  place  in  the  nerve-cells.  There  are,  again, 
cases  in  which  the  mind's  activity  outstrips  the  body  in 
strength.  This  has  been  observed  in  birds  flying  across 
the  continent,  in  whom  the  instinct  of  migration  is  so 
strong  that  it  outdoes  the  body  and  the  birds  fall  dead 
with  exhaustion.  This  also  occurs  occasionally  in  men 
whom  some  great  enthusiasm  or  passion  for  reform 
drives  on  to  reckless  neglect  of  their  strength,  till  they 
are  compelled  to  rest  their  bodies  in  eternal  sleep.  But 
the  psychological  experiment  in  hypnotic  suggestion,  as 
well  as  the  physiological  experiments  quoted  above, 
show  that  at  any  rate  the  greater  part  of  the  fatigue 
from  which  we  suffer  is  of  mental  origin;  in  fact,  ex- 
haustion of  purely  physical  origin  is  rare. 

(2)  The  over-sensitiveness  of  the  mind  to  physical 
fatigue. —  In  the  course  of  our  daily  life  we  more  often 
feel  fatigued  because  we  are  too  sensitive  to  this  phys- 
ical tiredness;  we  take  notice  of  its  symptoms  when  we 
ought  to  neglect  them.  Normally  there  are  thousands 
of  impressions  and  sensations  in  our  body  which  ought 
never  to  reach  consciousness  but  should  be  dealt  with 
and  responded  to  by  the  lower  brain  centres,  such  as 
the  beating  of  the  heart,  the  movements  of  the  stom- 
ach, the  sense  of  position  of  our  limbs,  and  the  sensa- 
tion of  normal  fatigue  in  our  body.      Ikit  sometimes, 


8o  THE  SPIRIT  iii 

owing  to  some  exceptional  experience  —  palpitation 
through  fear,  indigestion,  or  extreme  physical  exhaus- 
tion—  these  sensations  force  their  way  into  conscious- 
ness, and,  having  once  gained  a  footing,  continue  to 
claim  the  conscious  attention  of  the  mind.  The  mind 
begins  to  pay  undue  heed  to  these  sensations,  and 
pseudo  angina  pectoris,  nervous  dyspepsia,  and  neuras- 
thenia with  Its  over-sensltlveness  to  fatigue  result. 
Even  with  reasonably  healthy  people  the  mind  may  at 
certain  times  be  responsible  for  the  fatigue  felt  In  that 
it  may  be  over-sensitive  to  the  tiredness  of  the  body 
and,  by  forcing  It  Into  consciousness,  may  exaggerate 
what  should  be  a  trifling  and  transient  sensation  into  a 
feeling  of  complete  exhaustion.  Normal  fatigue  of 
body,  like  all  the  other  thousand  routine  sensations  of 
the  body,  should  never  reach  consciousness  except  under 
very  exceptional  circumstances.  The  healthy  Individ- 
ual comes  In  from  a  long,  pleasant  walk,  and,  though 
his  body  may  be  tired,  he  takes  no  notice  of  It  and  is 
quite  happy.  The  neurasthenic,  perhaps  owing  to 
some  exceptional  experience  of  over-fatigue  in  the  past, 
but  more  often  through  Introspection,  becomes  over- 
sensitive to  these  sensations.  The  same  amount  of 
waste  products  are  probably  formed  in  each  of  the  men 
after  the  same  length  of  walk,  but,  while  the  healthy 
man  neglects,  the  neurasthenic  notices  his  tiredness,  and 
therefore  suffers  from  exhaustion.  Under  hypnotic 
suggestion  a  pin-prick  can  be  made  to  feel  like  the  stab 
of  a  dagger,  and  the  lifting  of  a  book  can  cause  com- 
plete exhaustion,  because  the  mind  Is  made  over-sensi- 
tive. Similarly  the  man  who  Is  always  expecting  fa- 
tigue will  find  what  he  looks  for.  The  slightest  thing 
tires  him,  but  only  because  he  is  sensitive  to  the  slightest 
thing.  He  turns  the  molehill  Into  a  mountain,  and  this 
mountain  goes  into  labour  and  brings  forth  neurasthenia. 
(3)  Meanwhile  we  need  to  point  out  th^t  fatigue  of 
purely  mental  origin  is  often  misinterpreted  and  is  at- 
tributed to  a  physical  origin.      Man  has  not  yet  learnt 


Ill         THE  PSYCHOLOGY  OF  POWER         8i 

to  discriminate  clearly  between  mental  and  physical  sen- 
sations. Hence  mental  pain  tends  to  express  itself  in 
terms  of  physical  injury.  Thus  when  we  receive  bad 
news  the  shock  is  primarily  mental,  but  our  mind  sub- 
consciously finds  a  physical  expression  for  the  pain  and 
localises  it  in  the  head,  with  the  result  that  we  get  a 
nervous  headache;  but  this  is  because  our  mind  has  no 
other  way  of  finding  for  a  "  mental  pain  "  a  local  habi- 
tation and  a  name.  This  is  the  explanation  of  not  a 
few  apparently  physical,  but  really  functional,  diseases. 
For  this  reason,  when  the  mind  is  itself  fatigued  by 
worry,  anxiety,  depression,  or  fear,  this  fatigue,  though 
purely  mental,  is  often  felt  to  be  physical,  and  we  have 
the  same  sensations  as  if  it  were  the  body  that  was  tired 
out. 

(4)  Purely  mental  fatigue  is  chiefly  due  to  the  con- 
flict in  the  mind  between  the  instincts  and  the  will,  or 
between  the  instincts  themselves,  and  is  of  the  greatest 
importance  not  only  in  the  study  of  the  causes  of  fa- 
tigue but  for  the  acquisition  of  power.  The  powerful 
instincts  crave  for  free  expression;  the  will  attempts  to 
hold  them  down;  the  house  is  divided  against  itself  and 
cannot  stand.  The  instinctive  emotions  conflict  with 
one  another,  and  the  struggle  for  mastery  robs  our  lives 
of  strength  and  leaves  us  prostrate.  This  inner  con- 
flict, the  chief  cause  of  fatigue,  and  its  cure,  we  shall 
study  in  a  later  section.* 

To  call  fatigue  mental  rather  than  physical  is  not  to 
suggest  that  it  is  "  unreal."  Mental  fatigue  is  the 
most  real  and  the  most  important  for  our  lives.  It  fol- 
lows that  those  who  would  live  lives  of  energy  must 
look  to  the  resources  of  the  mind  rather  than  to  those 
of  the  body,  and  must  study  the  laws  which  condition 
mental  energy  and  mental  fatigue. 

The  Infirmity  of  vwv.  Wii.i, 

It  is  generally  considered  that  it  is  only  by  force  of 
will  that  we  exercise  power;  and  in   recent  years  the 

1  r.  92. 


82  THE  SPIRIT  III 

glorification  of  will  power  has  been  characteristic  of 
certain  philosophers,  mainly  of  Teutonic  origin,  and 
has  been  exploited  by  advertisers  in  pictures  of  square- 
jawed,  clenched-fistcd  supermen.  But  is  the  will  in 
point  of  fact  as  potent  as  popular  theory  would  have  us 
believe?  My  own  hospital  ward,  as  well  as  those  of 
every  physician  of  the  mind,  is  full  of  examples  of  will 
that  fails  to  accomplish  what  it  wills.  We  are  con- 
stantly dealing  with  cases  where  a  man  tries  his  utmost 
to  perform  certain  actions  and  fails  to  do  them;  and 
yet  they  are  perfectly  possible  to  him. 

I  had  a  patient,  a  healthy  lad  of  twenty,  who  had 
been  engulfed  in  the  marshes  of  the  Piave  and  was  In- 
valided home  paralysed  In  both  legs.  When  put  on  his 
feet  he  was  absolutely  terror-stricken,  and  was  with  the 
greatest  difficulty  supported  by  two  men.  He  fre- 
quently attempted  to  walk,  exerting  his  will  and  deter- 
mination to  the  utmost,  but  his  attempts  all  ended  in 
failure  and  distress.  As  there  was  no  actual  disease 
of  the  nervous  system  I  treated  him  by  hypnotic  sugges- 
tion, and  a  few  weeks  later  he  was  playing  football. 
The  desire  to  walk  was  there;  the  effort  of  will  to  walk 
was  there;  but  these  could  not  cure  him  —  the  will  was 
impotent  to  save. 

Another  lad,  whom  I  treated  only  a  few  days  ago, 
suffered  from  a  bullet  wound  through  the  shoulder, 
which,  however,  did  not  injure  any  Important  nerve, 
but  paralysed  his  whole  arm.  I  hypnotised  him,  and  in 
less  than  two  minutes  had  restored  the  power  which  had 
been  lacking  for  months.  Piis  greatest  effort  to  move 
it  had  resulted  in  failure;  yet  movement  proved  to  be 
possible.  Again,  where  the  will  was  impotent,  some 
other  power  succeeded.' 

To  revert  back  to  my  illustrations:  the  man  who  in 
fright  leaped  the  fence,  the  patient  who  struggled  so 

1  It  is  only  right  that  I  should  mention  that  "  shell-shock  "  cases  are  more 
dramatic  in  their  symptoms  and  in  their  cure  than  we  can  hope  for  in  civilian 
patients,  where  the  disease  is  often  of  long  standing,  its  cause  difficult  to  ex- 
pose, and  its  ci:re  proportionately  more  difficult. 


Ill         THE  PSYCHOLOGY  OF  POWER         83 

violently  that  four  men  were  needed  to  keep  him  down, 
the  man  fighting  with  his  back  to  the  wall,  were  all  able 
to  do  things  which  by  the  greatest  effort  of  will  they 
could  never  have  accomplished.  On  the  other  hand,  I 
have  been  in  my  ward  speaking  casually  with  the  men 
when  suddenly  I  have  told  one  man  that  he  could  not 
rise  from  his  chair  but  was  stuck  to  it;  another  that  he 
could  not  move  his  arm;  another  that  he  felt  compelled 
to  stand  on  one  leg;  and  it  was  ludicrous  to  observe  the 
strenuous  efforts  they  made  to  act  contrary  to  my  sug- 
gestions. They  exercised  their  wills,  but  to  no  effect. 
The  performances  of  public  hypnotists  abound  with 
such  experiments;  my  only  excuse  for  doing  them  is  that 
I  may  convince  men  whom  I  want  to  heal  of  the  power 
of  suggestion,  even  in  the  absence  of  hypnosis. 

Let  me  refer  again  to  my  hypnotic  experiment  in 
fatigue.  As  each  man  gripped  the  dynamometer  I  told 
him  to  do  so  "  as  hard  as  ever  he  could."  Yet  a  man 
would  one  minute  be  able  to  do  only  29  lbs.,  and  a  few 
minutes  after  he  could  manage  142  lbs.  It  is  quite  ob- 
vious that  the  difference  in  power  was  due,  not  to  the 
exercise  of  the  will,  which  was  strained  to  the  utmost  in 
each  case,  but  to  some  force  that  the  will  was  impotent 
to  affect.  We  shall  observe,  later,  that  this  obstacle 
to  the  full  exercise  of  the  will  was  the  belief  that  the 
thing  attempted  was  impossible.^  This  breakdown  of 
the  will  accounts  for  a  large  number  of  the  nervous  ills 
and  morbid  habits  with  which  the  physician  has  to  deal. 
Sometimes  it  takes  the  form  of  perversion.  I  have  a 
patient  who,  when  trying  to  move  his  right  leg,  invari- 
ably moves  his  left  leg.  He  observes  his  mistake  but 
cannot  correct  it.  There  is  a  want  of  co-ordination 
somewhere:  the  couplings  have  gone  wrong. 

But  I  ha\'c  only  to  appeal  to  the  reader  to  h)()k  into 
his  own  life  to  realise  how  futile  is  the  will  to  help  us 
in  many  of  our  difficulties.  Our  attempts  to  prevent 
blushing  produce  only  a  deeper  crimson;  the  effort  to  be 

1  See  section  on  "  Confidence  and  Faith." 


84  THE  SPIRIT  iii 

at  our  ease  produces  a  strained  attitude;  and  i-n  moral 
actions  how  often  does  our  greatest  determination  to 
do  right  end  in  failure?  It  was  long  ago  that  one  dis- 
cov^ered  "  what  I  would,  that  do  I  not;  but  what  I  hate, 
that  do  I."  One  thing  is  willed,  another  is  performed. 
The  victim  of  a  moody  or  irritable  temper,  or  of  some 
evil  habit,  spends  days  and  nights  in  vain  endeavour  to 
master  it.  What  more  pathetic  sight  than  that  of  a 
confirmed  drug-taker  affirming  with  a  sickly  smile  that 
he  can  easily  give  it  up.  A  vulture  was  seen  to  be  feed- 
ing on  a  carcase  as  lit  floated  down  the  Niagara  river 
above  the  Falls;  when  the  danger-point  came  it  doubt- 
less expected  to  spread  its  wings  and  fly  off;  but  when, 
in  fact,  it  spread  its  wings,  it  found  that  it  could  not 
rise;  its  talons  were  frozen  to  the  carcase  on  which  it 
fed,  and  so  it  was  carried  over  the  Falls  to  its  doom. 
So  the  victim  of  evil  habit  tells  you,  "  I  am  all  right, 
you  don't  need  to  bother  about  me;  I  can  give  it  up 
when  I  want  to";  but  when  he  rises  to  shake  himself 
and  put  on  strength,  he  finds  his  will  power  has  gone. 
The  freedom  of  the  will  may  be  a  doctrine  which  holds 
true  of  the  healthy,  and,  indeed,  the  exercise  of  will  and 
determination  is  the  normal  way  in  which  to  summon 
the  resources  of  power;  but  the  doctrine  that  the  will 
alone  is  the  way  to  power  is  a  most  woe-begone  theory 
for  the  relief  of  the  morally  sick — and  who  of  us  is 
whole?  Freedom  to  choose?  Yes!  But  what  if, 
when  we  choose,  we  have  no  power  to  perform?  We 
open  the  sluice-gates,  but  the  channels  are  dry;  we  pull 
the  lever,  but  nothing  happens;  we  try  by  our  will  to 
summon  up  our  strength,  but  no  strength  comes. 

We  cannot  kindle  when  we  would 
The  fire  that  in  the  soul  resides. 

Will  and  determination  are,  of  course,  essential  to 
moral  endeavour,  and  without  them  the  instincts  would 
run  riot.  When  we  say  "  I  will,"  we  feel  an  accession 
of  power  that  enables  us  to  conquer,  and  we  attribute 
that  power  to  the  will.      But  the  futility  of  looking  to 


Ill         THE  PSYCHOLOGY  OF  POWER         85 

the  will  alone  for  our  source  of  strength  is  obvious,  and 
those  who  rely  on  it  are  running  the  risk  of  disaster:  for 
practical  action  the  will  is  dependent  on  some  other 
power.  As  long  as  it  acts  in  conformity  with  this 
power  all  is  well.  Under  these  circumstances  the  more 
strenuous  the  will,  and  the  greater  our  resolution  and 
determination,  the  greater  will  be  our  strength.  But 
if  it  conflicts  with  this  power,  as  in  our  illustrations,  the 
will  is  impotent.  The  energies  which  give  the  driving 
force  to  our  lives  are  not  derived  from  the  will,  but 
from  another  source;  they  will  be  found  to  have  their 
origin  in  the  instinctive  emotions.  As  we  shall  observe 
later,  the  function  of  the  will  is  to  direct  and  work  in 
conformity  with  the  potent  forces  derived  from  the  in- 
stinctive emotions,  and  to  regulate  the  release  of  these 
forces  waiting  ready  for  action. 

This  view  of  the  will  suggests  two  conclusions  of 
great  importance  for  religion.  ( i )  An  evil  deed  is 
not  always  due  to  an  "  evil  will  "  for  which  one  is  to  be 
held  responsible,  but  may  be  due  to  impulses  over  which 
the  will  has  no  control,  or  to  distortions  of  character 
which  the  will  is  unable  to  set  right,  and  it  is  only  just 
that  the  offender  should  be  treated  as  sick  rather  than 
sinful.^  (2)  We  cannot  rely  upon  the  will  alone  to 
deliver  us  from  evil  habits.  Modern  psychotherapy 
confirms  the  old  religious  belief  that  to  give  power  to 
the  will,  confidence  and  faith  in  the  possibility  of  victory 
are  essential. 

The  Instincts 

The  great  driving  forces  of  life  are  the  Instinctive 
Emotions.'     The  Will  may  open  the  sluice-gates,  but 

1  I  would  suggest  that  the  "  cure  of  souls  "  is  a  practice  too  seriously  neg- 
lected by  the  modern   church. 

2  On  the  subject  of  the  instincts  and  their  [iractica!  bearing  on  luininn  life,  I 
would  urge  the  reader,  if  he  has  not  yet  done  so,  to  stuily  W.  NJcDougall's 
Social  Psychology,  for  it  is  to  Dr.  McHongall  that  we  owe  the  recognition  of 
the  |>aramount  importance  of  the  instincts  in  social  life.  That  book  shows  how 
intimately  connected  are  the  instincts  and  certain  great  emotions,  and  I  use 
the  term  Instinctive  Kmotion  to  indicate  such  emotions  as  Fear,  Tenderness, 
Wonder,  which  are  racially  iiihrrifrd  and  primitive,  and  tliercfore  can  dominate 
our   whole   human   life   and   conduct. 


86  THE  SPIRIT 


HI 


the  Instinctive  Emotions  constitute  the  flood  which 
sweeps  through  the  channel.  Great  Ideas  may  sway 
masses  of  men  as  when  the  cry  of  "  Liberty,  Equality, 
and  Fraternity  "  called  thousands  to  rise  in  revolution; 
yet  it  is  only  when  associated  with  an  emotion,  and 
particularly  an  instinctive  emotion,  that  the  idea  is 
charged  with  compelling  power. 

The  instinctive  emotions  give  driving  force  to  the 
will  and  put  life  into  great  ideas,  and,  being  liberated 
like  the  winds  from  the  cave  of  Aeolus,  burst  forth, 
either  to  do  their  work  of  destruction  or,  if  rightly 
controlled,  to  speed  us,  with  full-bellied  sail,  on  the 
voyage  to  the  harbour  of  our  destiny. 

When  we  look  back  on  our  previous  illustrations  of 
extraordinary  powers  we  see  that  the  7nain  forces  acting 
in  and  through  these  men  were  the  instinctive  emotions. 
Fear,  the  expression  of  the  instinct  of  self-preservation, 
gave  the  soldier,  buried  in  the  debris  and  fighting  for 
his  life,  almost  superhuman  power.  The  instinct  of 
pugnacity  gave  one  desperate  man  surrounded  by  the 
enemy  the  strength  of  five.  The  instinctive  emotion 
of  fear  enabled  the  athlete  to  make  a  spring  which  he 
could  never  afterwards  accomplish  by  power  of  will 
alone.  In  these  cases  the  driving  force  obviously 
comes  from  the  instinctive  emotions;  and  they  are  none 
the  less  at  work  in  great  reformers,  statesmen,  and 
industrial  monarchs.  Wilberforce  could  never  have 
induced  Britain  to  make  so  great  a  sacrifice  in  hard 
cash  for  the  liberation  of  the  slaves  had  he  not  ap- 
pealed to  an  instinctive  emotion  which  could  sweep 
away  thoughts  of  prudent  economy.  The  emotion 
aroused  in  his  own  soul,  and  which  he  quickened  in  the 
soul  of  others,  was  the  feeling  of  pity,  an  emotion 
characteristic  of  the  parental  instinct.^  The  instinct 
of  constructiveness  combined  with  the  instinct  of  self- 
assertion  and  the  ambitious  desire  for  power  drives  one 
man  from  the  seclusion  of  a  village  to  control  the  affairs 

1  "  Like  as  a  father   pitieth   his  own   children," 


Ill         THE  PSYCHOLOGY  OF  POWER         87 

of  an  empire,  and  another  to  organise  a  trust.  It  is 
when  our  feelings  are  aroused,  when  passion  is 
awakened  in  the  breast,  when  the  approach  of  danger 
makes  us  alert  to  strike,  when  the  sight  of  brutality  to 
a  child  kindles  our  indignation,  or  when  we  are  pos- 
sessed by  some  soul-satisfying  ambition, —  it  is  then 
that  we  feel  most  deeply  the  sense  of  power.  Not  in 
the  cold,  deliberate  choice  of  the  will,  but  in  the  passion 
of  the  soul  is  to  be  found  that  flood  of  energy  which 
can  open  to  us  the  resources  of  power.  Mastered  by 
such  a  passion  the  soul  will  admit  no  defeat. 

The  strength  of  the  instincts  has  not  yet  been  fully 
appreciated,  nor  is  it  fully  realised  how  great  a  part 
they  play  in  common  life.  They  have  been  boycotted 
by  the  cultured  as  brutish  survivals,  and  even  now 
some  regard  them  as  little  more  than  a  power  that 
makes  the  birds  migrate  and  the  bees  furnish  the  hive. 
Hardly  do  these  people  realise  that  society  itself  exists 
in  response  to  an  instinct  of  the  herd,  that  their  desire 
to  travel  is  a  response  to  the  instinct  of  migration,  and 
the  impulse  to  build  great  cities  and  empires  is  the  same 
impulse  as  compels  the  beaver  to  build  the  dam.  The 
sociologist  is  most  concerned  with  the  gregarious  in- 
stinct, so  lucidly  demonstrated  by  Trotter  in  The  In- 
stinct of  the  Herd.  Yet  it  is  only  recently  that  ade- 
quate recognition  has  been  given  by  sociologists  to  the 
instincts.  Fortunately  we  have  now  ceased  to  ignore 
them,  and  we  realise  that  the  instincts  are  the  raw 
material  upon  the  direction  of  which  depends  most  of 
our  individual  and  social  life,  and  we  now  regard  them 
for  the  most  part  as  healthy.  But  even  to  this  day 
many  moralists  adopt  the  prevailing  attitude  towards 
the  instincts  in  advocating  a  stern  suppression  of  them. 
Such  an  attempt  is  doomed  to  failure,  for  two  reasons. 
Because,  in  the  first  place,  it  is  practically  impossible  to 
suppress  such  dccp-rootcd  hereditary  predispositions: 
and,  secondly,  because  the  suppression  of  them  would 
only  dam  up  the  channels  of  power  which  nature  has 


88  THE  SPIRIT 


III 


provided.      If  we  attempt  to  suppress  our  instincts,  will 
is  di\'ided  against  instinct  and  the  house  cannot  stand. 

Religious  teaching  has  sometimes  been  guilty  of  this 
mistaken  suppression  in  two  ways.  The  one  is  exemp- 
lified by  those  who  would  suppress  the  instinct  of 
curiosity  on  which,  as  will  be  shown  later,  intellectual 
inquiry  is  based,  and  advocate  that  so-called  "  asceti- 
cism of  the  intellect  "  which  would  ultimately  stifle 
truth.  The  other,  with  which  we  are  more  concerned 
here,  is  the  suppression  of  emotion.  In  their  dread  of 
emotionalism  —  the  unruly  debauch  of  unrestrained 
feeling — and  its  consequences  in  conduct,  they  have 
attempted  to  abolish  all  emotion  as  a  thing  either 
dangerous  or  vulgar.  In  so  doing  they  have  failed  to 
appreciate  that  the  Christian  religion  is  founded  on 
an  emotion  —  the  all-embracing  emotion  of  love.  To 
rob  the  soul  of  emotion  is  to  deprive  it  of  its  driving 
force  and  leave  it  lifeless.  Matthew  Arnold's  descrip- 
tion of  religion  as  being  morality  tinned  with  emotion 
is  a  delightful  though  unconscious  satire  on  what  re- 
ligion actually  is  at  the  present  day,  but  certainly  not 
what  it  should  be.  A  "  tinge  "  of  emotion  is  not  the 
kind  of  thing  to  turn  the  world  upside-down.  "  No 
heart  is  pure  that  is  not  passionate;  no  virtue  is  safe 
that  is  not  enthusiastic."  If  religion  means  anything 
at  all,  it  ought  to  mean  the  full  and  harmonious  display 
and  exercise  of  all  our  powers,  emotional  and  in- 
tellectual, so  that  we  present  our  whole  selves  a  living 
sacrifice  to  God. 

The  Instincts  and  Morality 

But  if  we  accept  the  thesis  that  the  instinctive  emo- 
tions are,  humanly  speaking,  the  sources  of  our  human 
energies,  the  question  arises  —  Are  these  forces  moral? 
Revenge  and  lust,  as  well  as  heroism,  bring  an  enhance- 
ment of  strength.  If  the  instinctive  emotions  are  the 
springs  of  power,  can  the  sexual  libertine  lay  claim  to 
it  as  justifiably  as  the  devoted  mother  ?     The  blind  rage 


Ill         THE  PSYCHOLOGY  OF  POWER         89 

of  instinctive  passion  can  scarcely  be  called  moral,  and 
yet  it  fills  beast  and  man  with  extraordinary  power. 

The  following  observations  are  therefore  necessary 
to  a  true  estimate  of  the  moral  value  of  the  instinctive 
emotions. 

( I )  In  the  first  place,  it  must  be  recognised  how 
many  of  the  instincts  have  naturally  a  truly  moral  ten- 
dency. The  tenderness  of  a  mother  for  her  child,  per- 
haps the  most  perfect  example  of  virtue  In  the  whole 
of  human  life,  is  at  the  same  time  the  most  perfect 
example  of  a  beneficent  Instinct.  It  Is  found  not  only 
in  the  human  mother  but  In  the  lioness,  the  tigress,  and 
the  bird.  Again,  in  the  herd  Instinct,  which  makes 
the  individual  surrender  all  his  personal  claims  to  the 
demands  of  the  pack,  lie  the  germ  and  source  of  most 
of  the  social  virtues.  The  instincts  are  not  brutal  be- 
cause they  are  shared  by  brutes,  and.  Indeed,  it  might 
be  urged  that  the  noblest  deeds  of  man  have  sprung 
from  the  altruistic  Instincts  which  originate  in  mother- 
love  and  loyalty  to  one's  fellows  and  can  be  traced  far 
back  Into  the  animal  kingdom.  But  even  such  benef- 
icent instincts  need  to  be  wisely  directed.  In  the  case 
of  the  maternal  Instinct,  for  Instance,  there  comes  the 
time  when  the  child  must  no  longer  rely  upon  the 
mother  but  win  Independence.  The  lingering  care  of 
the  mother  for  the  grown-up  daughter  is  certain  at 
some  time  to  clash  with  the  Impulse  to  independence  in 
the  daughter,  and  Is  the  cause  of  that  misunderstanding 
and  consequent  friction  which  so  often  brings  unhappi- 
ness  to  both  mother  and  daughter.  They  are  both 
guided  by  instinctive  impulses  that  are  right  and  neces- 
sary—  the  one  of  maternal  care,  the  other  of  Inde- 
pendence. The  friction  which  so  often  results  would 
frecjuently  be  avoided  were  both  mother  and  daughter 
to  realise  the  causes  of  their  misunderstandings.  A 
wider  knowlctlge  o(  the  influence  of  the  instincts  would 
materially  assist  In  bringing  about  peace  and  harmony 
in    everyday    life.      As    soon    as    both    mother    and 


90  THE  SPIRIT  iii 

daughter  realise  that  the  opinions  and  desires  of  the 
other  are  not  due  to  "  sheer  cussedness,"  but  under- 
,  stand  that  such  desires  are  instinctive  and  natural,  so 
soon  will  this  understanding  bring  about  peace  and 
forgiveness.* 

(2)  On  the  broadest  definition,  morality  is  that 
which  is  found  to  be  valuable  for  social  life.  In  the 
animal  world  all  the  instincts  are,  in  this  sense,  moral. 
And,  as  we  have  seen,  some  of  them,  such  as  the  tender- 
ness of  the  mother  for  her  young,  or  the  loyalty  of  the 
individual  to  the  pack,  can,  with  but  a  little  sublimation, 
become  the  basis  of  all  that  is  best  and  highest  in  human 
life.  Others,  however,  like  the  instinct  of  pugnacity, 
may  seem  in  human  society  to  have  outlived  their  day. 
At  an  early  stage  of  human  evolution  such  an  instinct 
was  valuable  in  the  struggle  for  existence.  But  this 
struggle,  at  least  in  its  cruder  form,  is,  or  ought  to  be, 
a  thing  of  the  past;  with  the  result  that  the  instinct  of 
pugnacity  may  easily  lead  to  anti-social  conduct. 
Nevertheless,  every  instinct,  however  ill-adapted  to  the 
requirements  of  present-day  civilised  life,  has  had  its 
value  in  its  day  in  that  it  worked  for  the  good  of  the 
species  as  a  whole,  and  should  be  regarded,  so  far^  as 
moral,  or  capable  of  being  moralised.  I  shall  deal 
with  the  question  of  the  transformation  and  moralisa- 
tion  of  the  instincts  in  a  later  section. 

(3)  The  moral  potentialities  of  the  force  mani- 
fested in  the  instincts  may  be  judged  also  from  another 
point  of  view.  The  source  of  power  lies  not  in  in- 
stinctive emotion  alone,  but  in  instinctive  emotion  ex- 
pressed in  a  way  with  which  the  whole  man  can,  for  the 
time  being  at  least,  identify  himself.  Ultimately,  this 
is  Impossible  without  the  achievement  of  a  harmony 
of  all  the  Instincts  and  the  approval  of  the  reason.     An 

1  The  need  for  such  understanding  is  most  felt  in  regard  to  the  instincts  in 
growing  children,  whose  impulses  towards  the  expression  of  the  instincts  are  so 
often  treated  as  "  naughtiness."  The  child  naturally  feels  unjustly  treated,  for 
the  impulse  to  obey  the  instincts,  a  perfectly  beneficent  impulse  if  wisely  guided, 
is  stronger  than  the  impulse  to  obey  the  injunctions  of  the  parent,  whose  busi- 
ness it  ought  to  be  to  make  the  instincts  amenable  to  the  control  of  reason. 


Ill         THE  PSYCHOLOGY  OF  POWER         91 

evil  man  has  access  to  the  same  instinctive  emotions  as 
the  good  man,  and  may  use  them  for  wrong  ends  —  as 
a  Napoleon  for  his  ambition,  or  a  murderer  for  his 
hate.  The  man  who  gives  vent  to  blind  rage  may 
feel  the  same  satisfaction  and  relief  as  does  the  man 
who  shows  his  indignation  at  some  moral  wrong.  Yet 
in  the  long  run  those  who  misuse  their  powers  destroy 
themselves  by  their  very  passions.  It  may  be  true 
that  the  man  who  takes  personal  vengeance  on  another 
may  satisfy  his  Instinct  of  revenge  and  feel  elated,  but 
he  Is  apt  to  be  so  ostracised  by  his  fellows  that,  quite 
Independently  of  any  practical  Inconvenience  their  con- 
sequent action  towards  him  may  entail,  the  herd  Instinct 
In  him  rises  up  In  opposition  to  the  Instinct  of  revenge 
and  sets  up  an  Internal  conflict  which  soon  robs  him  of 
that  harmony  of  the  Instincts  which  I  shall  show  later 
on  to  be  essential  to  power. ^  Thus  the  greatest  and 
permanent  power  comes  to  him  who  uses  It  not  for  his 
own  personal  ends,  but  for  the  good  of  his  fellows;  for 
only  by  such  a  use  of  It  does  he  achieve  the  maximum 
inner  harmony.  We  may  therefore  assert  that,  while 
it  is  open  to  the  evil  man  to  give  vent  to  a  particular 
instinctive  emotion,  and  thereby  to  lay  claim  for  a 
moment  to  the  power  that  nature  lavishes  upon  those 
who  use  her  gifts,  it  Is  only  to  those  who  use  them 
aright  that  the  greatest  powers  are  given.  Thus  the 
powers  at  our  disposal  are  not  so  neutral  and  non-moral 
as  they  seem,  but  tend  to  favour  those  who  will  use 
them  for  the  noblest  purposes.  Revenge,  pride,  and 
passion  destroy  the  permanent  inner  harmony  of  the 
soul,  even  though  they  may  temporarily  energise  it  Into 
activity.  Chivalry,  honour,  and  love,  devoted  to  the 
service  of  others,  tend  to  produce  a  transformation 
of  Instincts  and  a  living  harmony  of  the  soul  which 
can  permanently  keep  open  the  sluice-gates  of  power. 
Wc  shall  proceed,  then,  to  deal  with  the  questions 
which  have  just  arisen,  and  show  how  the  crude  forces 

1  .Sec  section  on  "  The  Conflict  of   Instincts." 


92  THI-:  SPIRIT  III 

which  reside  in  the  instinctive  emotions  can  best  be 
utilised  lor  human  endeavours  and  ideals.  We  shall 
first  show  how  the  instincts  of  the  baser  sort,  if 
focussed  on  some  dominating  purpose  or  idea,  may  be 
transformed;  after  which  we  shall  demonstrate  the 
necessity  of  expending  our  powers  as  a  pre-requisite 
of  receiving  more  power,  and  finally  we  shall  deal  with 
the  question  of  the  conflict  of  instincts,  the  abolition 
of  which  conflict  is  necessary  to  unity  and  to  power. 

The  Conflict  of  Instincts 

The  presence  of  conflict  in  the  soul  drains  It  of 
strength,  and  is  one  of  the  main  causes  of  weakness. 
"  I  see  another  law  in  my  members  warring  against 
the  law  of  my  mind."  The  conflict  may  be  of  instinc- 
tive emotions  with  ideas,  as  when  a  man  is  feeble  be- 
cause he  is  obsessed  with  intellectual  doubt.  At  other 
times  the  weakness  is  due  to  the  conflict  of  instinctive 
emotions  and  will,  one  of  the  most  common  forms  of 
which  is  the  attempt  to  suppress  the  instincts  by  the 
will,  already  referred  to.  But  chiefly  our  powers  are 
sapped  because  the  instincts  are  divided  against  them- 
selves. Let  one  instinct  sway  the  mind  and  there  is 
the  sense  of  power.  But  the  instincts  are  often  op- 
posed and  turn  many  of  our  best  endeavours  into 
failures.  We  are  ambitious  to  succeed,  but  we  are 
checked  by  the  fear  of  making  fools  of  ourselves.  We 
never  learn  to  skate,  because  we  think  of  the  ridiculous 
figure  we  should  cut  if  we  fell.  Thus  the  desire  to 
excel  in  any  accomplishment  (the  instinct  of  self- 
assertion)  conflicts  with  the  possible  feeling  of  shame 
and  self-abasement. 

The  following  case  illustrates  my  point  so  well  that 
I  shall  give  it  in  some  detail.  I  have  recently  been 
treating  a  lady  who,  when  she  came  to  me,  was  so 
neurasthenic  and  easily  fatigued  that  she  habitually 
slept  for  sixteen  hours  out  of  the  twenty-four.  After 
a  good  night's  sleep  from  9  P.  M.  till  7  A.  M.  she  would 


Ill         THE  PSYCHOLOGY  OF  POWER         93 

rise  and  have  breakfast,  but  the  effort  caused  her  so 
much  fatigue  that  she  would  retire  to  bed  again  at  9 
A.  M.  to  sleep  till  12.  Now  this  was  not  laziness  in  the 
ordinary  sense;  she  was  an  affectionate  mother,  and 
was  anxious  above  all  things  to  be  able  to  work  and 
play  with  her  children,  but  she  had  not  the  strength. 
It  was  purely  a  case  of  mental  fatigue,  produced  by  a 
conflict  of  instinctive  emotions. 

Her  cure  could  only  be  effected  by  discovering  the 
cause  and  eradicating  it  from  the  mind.  This  process 
of  discovery  was  conducted  largely  under  hypnosis, 
since  the  patient  could  give  little  assistance  in  her  wak- 
ing state.  It  was  discovered  that  the  cause  was  the 
long-continued  strain  of  nursing  a  very  delicate  child, 
when  on  more  than  one  occasion  it  seemed  that  it  must 
be  a  question  of  whether  mother  or  child  should  be 
sacrificed.  In  her,  then,  two  most  powerful  instinctive 
emotions  had  been  at  war,  namely,  the  instinct  of  self- 
preservation  and  the  maternal  instinct.  The  result 
was  a  complete  breakdown,  several  phobias,  and  a 
fatigue  lasting  some  years,  even  though  the  original 
cause  of  anxiety  was  happily  at  an  end.  These  were  in 
turn  removed,  the  instincts  readjusted,  the  phobias  ex- 
plained, and  the  last  account  I  have  received  from  her 
husband,  some  months  later,  is  to  the  effect  that  she  is 
perfectly  well.^ 

Fortunately  most  of  us  arc  not  called  on  to  suffer 
from  such  conflicts,  but  conflict  is  nevertheless  repre- 
sented in  everyday  life  by  anxiety  and  worry.  Anxiety 
is  essentially  a  conflict  of  emotions.  Anxiety  about  the 
future,  about  one's  children,   about  the  dinner  one  is 

1  Other  cases  of  conflict  leading  to  nervous  breakdown  which  have  lately  come 
under  my  notice  may  be  briefly  in<licated.  The  sense  of  duty  to  her  motlier 
clashed  with  the  instinctive  desire  for  indeijcndence  in  a  grown-up  daughter,  and 
a  feeling  of  restless  discontent  resulted.  l"ear  and  the  impulse  to  run  away 
conflicted  in  the  mind  of  the  soldier  with  his  sense  of  duty,  and  ended  in  a 
condition  of  paralysis  of  the  legs,  unconsciously  produced,  whicii  solved  the  im- 
mediate problem  but  bniught  about  a  breakdown  in  health.  The  eagerness  to 
plea-iJc  a  master,  with  whom  a  patient  of  mine  was  in  love,  together  with  the 
constant  sense  of  failure  in  this  attempt,  brought  about  a  conflict  between 
sexual  instinct  and  sclf-pri'le,  and  protjuce-d  a  neurasthenia  of  many  yearn' 
standing.  A  man's  desire  to  live  a  clean  and  pure  life  was  hampered  by  the 
shame  of  a  i>ast  sin. 


94  THE  SPIRIT  III 

giving,  about  the  destiny  of  one's  soul,  about  a  railway 
journey  or  one's  health,  are  all  conflicts  of  opposing 
emotions.  By  such  worries  and  restlessness  of  spirit 
we  waste  our  strength  and  sap  our  vitality.  By  facing 
our  conflicts  and  deliberately  making  our  choice,  by 
directing  all  our  endeavours  to  one  great  purpose,  con- 
fidently and  fearlessly,  the  soul  is  restored  again  to 
harmony  and  strength. 

The  Conversion  of  the  Instincts 
Perhaps  the  most  characteristic  feature  of  a  living 
being  is,  that  it  can  raise  energy  from  a  lower  potential 
to  a  higher  potential,  i.e.  its  efficiency  for  a  given  pur- 
pose is  increased.  In  all  /wanimate  things  energy,  such 
as  heat  or  motion,  tends  to  be  dissipated  instead  of 
being  raised  to  a  high  potential.  The  human  being  can 
raise  the  energy  contained  in  food  and  transform  it 
into  nerve  energy,  and  by  so  doing  he  raises  the  poten- 
tial of  this  form  of  energy.  William  James  probably 
had  in  mind  this  difference  of  potential  when  he  says: 
"  Writing  is  higher  than  walking,  thinking  is  higher 
than  writing,  deciding  higher  than  thinking,  deciding 
'  no  '  higher  than  deciding  '  yes.'  "  It  is  the  in- 
tellectual and  moral  privilege  of  the  human  being  that 
he  can  similarly  raise  the  energy  contained  in  the  in- 
stincts, the  radical  fault  in  most  of  which  is  their 
selfish  and  egocentric  character,  to  higher  potentials; 
that  is  to  say,  by  transforming  the  quality  of  this 
energy  he  raises  its  power  to  accomplish  his  ends,  as 
sexual  passion  has  been  transformed  into  love;  and  by 
changing  the  direction  of  the  energy  he  endows  it  with 
a  greater  effectiveness  of  purpose.  By  doing  so  he  re- 
tains the  power  or  force  of  the  instincts,  but  directs 
that  force  to  greater  purpose.  Furthermore,  directed 
to  altruistic  ends,  these  individual  instincts  will  no 
longer  clash  with  the  social  instincts  and  thereby  be 
deprived  of  strength,  but  co-operating  and  working  in 
harmony  with  the  social  instincts  they  will  be  mag- 
nificently reinforced  and  their  power  multiplied. 


Ill         THE  PSYCHOLOGY  OF  POWER         95 

The  hiint'uig  instinct  affords  an  obvious  Illustration  of 
this  principle.  We  see  Its  evolution  in  the  transforma- 
tion from  the  child's  game  of  ''  hide  and  seek,"  to  the 
keenness  of  the  boy  scout,  until  finally  It  assumes  the 
form  of  exploration  and  discovery.  Its  original  object 
having  been  almost  entirely  forgotten. 

Again,  the  instinct  of  curiosity  is  one  the  poten- 
tialities of  which  are  not  sufficiently  realised.  We 
often  use  this  term  In  a  derogatory  sense,  as  when  one 
is  said  to  be  "  Inquisitive  out  of  mere  curiosity." 
Curiosity  often  takes  the  form  of  prying  into  other 
people's  affairs;  it  has  driven  more  than  one  medical 
student  I  have  known  Into  morphlnomania,  and  it  leads 
many  a  young  man  and  woman  to  sample  those 
"  thrills  "  which  constitute  "  seeing  life."  "  It  is  in 
their  blood,"  we  say,  by  which  we  Imply  that  this  Im- 
pulse Is  instinctive.  But  this  Instinct  of  curiosity  also 
gives  the  impulse  to  all  true  scientific  pursuit.  The 
instinct  of  curiosity  directed  towards  human  nature 
makes  of  one  person  a  prying  gossip,  but  leads  another 
to  search,  like  the  psychologist,  into  the  hidden  depths 
of  the  human  mind  with  sympathetic  Insight.  Nothing 
short  of  a  fundamental  instinct  could  urge  on  the  scien- 
tist to  the  researches  which  he  pursues  year  after  year, 
regardless  of  result  or  reward,  to  the  great  good  of 
mankind. 

The  combative  instinct. —  We  often  hear  it  main- 
tained that  the  instinct  of  pugnacity  which  In  the  past 
has  led  to  war  must  necessarily  do  so  in  the  future,  and 
that  those  who  look  for  a  permanent  peace  are  there- 
fore doomed  to  disappointment.  This  is  a  most  un- 
justifiable assumption.  Granting  that  the  emotional 
element  of  every  instinct  must  always  remain,  it  is  not 
necessary  cither  that  the  same  stimuli  should  awaken 
that  emotion,  or  that  the  emotion  should  express  Itself 
in  the  same  action  —  in  this  case,  in  slaughter.  The 
instinct  for  combat  finds  expression  in  games  such  as 
football  and  in  the  rivalry  of  sport;  and  it  is  probably 


96  THE  SPIRIT 


III 


for  this  reason  that  the  English  people  are  less  aggres- 
sive than  other  nations  we  know,  though  when  the 
instinct  is  directed  to  war  the  Englishman  throws  him- 
self into  it  with  no  less  energy  and  zest.  Long  ago, 
William  James  pointed  out  the  possibility  of  finding  a 
moral  equivalent  of  war  in  social  service,  from  an 
egocentric  to  an  altruistic  and  chivalrous  end.'  We 
can  take  up  arms  for  others  even  though  we  refuse  to 
do  so  for  ourselves.  Then  our  instinct  ceases  to  be 
aggressive,  and  becomes  protective.  So  ultimately  we 
shall  learn  that  we  can  fight  with  other  weapons  for 
truth  and  purity,  we  shall  join  a  crusade  against  oppres- 
sion and  vice  —  and  this  kind  of  combat  will  employ 
for  social  ends  those  emotions  and  instincts  which  at 
present  we  use  for  war  and  destruction.  So  we  may 
confidently  hope  that  the  pugnacious  instinct  will  find 
scope  in  fields  of  social  service  in  the  fight  for  justice, 
purity,  and  right. 

It  is  often  said  that  Instincts  are  blind.  It  is  rather 
we  who  are  blind  to  their  potency  and  to  the  purposes 
for  which  they  exist.  The  abandonment  of  that  false 
doctrine  which  would  have  us  suppress  them,  and  the 
substitution  for  it  of  an  understanding  of  their  proper 
uses,  would  open  up  to  us  resources  of  power  which 
would  give  us  in  abundance  energy  and  life. 

Fear:  Sex:  Self-assertion. —  The  instinctive  emo- 
tion of  fear  and  the  instincts  of  sex  and  self-assertion 
deserve  more  detailed  description  on  account  of  their 
great  power  —  a  power  derived  from  their  primitive 
character,  their  origin  dating  back  to  the  earliest  forms 
of  animal  life,  but  one  far  greater  than  the  circum- 
stances of  modern  life  necessitate.  Abolish  these  in- 
stincts and  their  effects  in  individual  and  social  life,  and 
the  problems  of  mankind  would  be  well-nigh  solved. 
But  abolish  them  we  cannot;  to  suppress  them  is  to 

1  In  the  Great  War  men  in  this  country  were  largely  divided  into  those  who 
fought  because  they  hated  the  Hun  and  those  who  fought  in  chivalrous  defence 
of  the  Belgian  nation.  The  resultant  action  was  the  same,  yet  the  motive  for 
the  impulse  was  very  different,  being  the  expression  of  a  selfish  instinct  in  one 
case  and  of  an  altruistic  one  in  the  other. 


Ill         THE  PSYCHOLOGY  OF  POWER         97 

deprive  ourselves  of  their  forces.  To  convert  them 
and  to  redirect  their  forces  to  higher  purposes  is  the 
work  of  beings  possessed  of  inteUigence,  of  will,  and 
of  an  ideal. 

The  instinctive  emotion  of  fear,  so  intimately  asso- 
ciated with  self-preservation,  is  one  very  necessary  to 
our  existence;  without  it  we  should  soon  be  run  down 
in  the  street.  But  the  strength  of  this  instinct  is  far 
greater  than  the  uses  of  our  civilised  life  require,  for 
modern  life  is  comparatively  safe.  There  is  a  great 
deal  of  the  primitive  fear  that  is  left  over,  as  it  were, 
which  we  cannot  use.  The  consequence  is  that  the  ex- 
cess of  fear  tends  to  flow  into  wrong  channels,  or  we 
fear  excessively  things  which  should  rightly  be  objects 
of  fear.  Our  surplus  fear  produces  fear  of  poverty, 
fear  of  sickness  and  pain,  fear  of  the  future,  fear  of 
what  might  have  been,  fear  of  ourselves,  fear  of  death, 
fear  of  life,  fear  of  failure,  and,  perhaps  most  paralys- 
ing of  all,  fear  of  fear.  If  fear  were  abolished  from 
modern  life,  the  work  of  the  psychotherapist  would  be 
nearly  gone.  It  was  not  without  cause  that  the  Master 
of  the  soul  so  often  reiterated  "  Fear  not,"  "  Be  not 
afraid,"  "  Be  not  anxious." 

Is  this,  then,  an  instinct  we  should  suppress?  That 
is  both  impossible  and  undesirable.  The  effects  of  fear 
are  of  two  kinds:  there  is  the  fear  that  paralyses  and 
the  fear  that  Inspires.  Nothing  paralyses  our  lives 
so  much  as  fear,  depriving  them  as  It  does  of  that 
abundance  of  power  which  is  our  birthright.  But  there 
is  also  the  fear  that  nerves  and  Inspires  and  expresses 
Itself  in  the  effecti\e  avoidance  of  Imminent  disaster. 
Now,  we  ask  what  constitutes  the  difference  between 
the  fear  In  these  two  cases?  The  answer  is  that  fear 
paralyses  when  it  offers  no  way  of  escape;  it  inspires 
when  it  is  associated  with  hope.  A  hare,  sudtlcnly 
surprised,  is  cither  temporarily  paralysed  by  fear,  or 
stimulated  to  its  topmost  speed.  It  has  been  con- 
jectured   that   the   paralysis   Is   probably   a    protective 


98  THE  SPIRIT 


in 


mechanism  to  enable  the  animal  to  hide  when  it  cannot 
escape.  If  escape  is  possible  the  fear  no  longer 
paralyses,  but  is  expressed  in  that  tension  of  muscle, 
that  alertness  of  mind,  which  make  swift  and  effective 
action  possible.  Fear  which  includes  a  large  element 
of  hope  passes  into  confidence,  and  this,  as  we  have 
seen,  is  the  first  essential  of  power.  If  we  apply  our 
principle  to  what  we  have  said  concerning  morbid  fear, 
we  can  see  that  our  problem  is  to  turn  the  fear  that 
paralyses  into  the  fear  that  inspires.  The  fear  of 
poverty  inspires  us  to  greater  efforts,  the  fear  of  the 
future  saves  us  from  indolence,  the  fear  of  accident 
makes  us  alert;  but  this  transformation  takes  place 
only  when  we  have  confidence  that  we  can  come 
through,  and  that  the  struggle  will  issue  in  victory. 

Those  who  have  raised  discussion  as  to  whether  we 
should  "  fear  God  "  have,  I  think,  failed  to  appreciate 
this  difference  between  the  fear  that  paralyses  and  the 
fear  akin  to  hope  that  urges  us  to  active  service.  To 
fear  God  may  mean  that  we  are  afraid  of  God  because 
He  may  punish  us,  and  in  this  case  the  fear  is  paralysing 
and  brings  forth  no  good  result  —  "I  knew  thee,  that 
thou  wert  an  austere  man  .  .  .  and  hid  thy  talent  in 
the  ground."  But  the  fear  of  God  may  mean  that, 
indifferent  to  ourselves,  we  are  filled  with  reverent  awe 
(in  which  emotion  there  is  an  element  of  fear),  com- 
bined with  a  conviction  of  His  willingness  and  power 
to  help.  This  shifts  the  fear  from  ourselves,  turns  it 
into  hope,  and  fills  us  with  a  confidence  which  stimulates 
us  to  great  endeavours,  and  gives  us  that  inspiration 
which  only  comes  to  those  who  humbly  devote  them- 
selves to  a  noble  cause. 

The  sexual  instinct  at  first  sight  appears  to  be  in- 
capable of  being  raised  to  higher  uses.  It  is  an  instinct 
which  is  necessary  to  the  race  for  the  purpose  of  repro- 
duction. But,  like  fear,  it  has  a  far  greater  "  affect  " 
or  emotional  tone  than  we  need  for  this  purpose,  and 
therefore  its  lavish  expression  apparently  needs  to  be 


Ill         THE  PSYCHOLOGY  OF  POWER         99 

suppressed.     On  the   other  hand,   the  suppression  of 
this  instinct  causes  a  very  large  number  of  the  nervous 
ills  to  which  men,  and  still  more  women,  fall  victims. 
But  the  sexual  instinct,  which  naturally  expresses  itself 
as  admiration  for  personal  beauty,  is  probably  at  the 
basis  of  all  the  higher  forms  of  art  and  may  well  be 
jublimated  to  this  end.      Further,  this  instinct  is  very 
closely  associated  with  the  maternal  and  paternal  in- 
stincts, and  seems  almost  to  form  a  harmonious  com- 
plex with  them.     The  true  lover  is  not  only  moved  by 
the  sexual  instinct,  but  almost  always  associates  with  it 
the  maternal  or  paternal  instinct,  and  desires  to  "  have 
some  one  to  care  for."  ^     Many  a  woman  has  married 
an  invalid  man  simply  in  order  to  gratify  this  maternal 
instinct    in    caring    for    him.      Unmarried   women,    in 
whom  the  sexual   instincts  are   strong    (and  let  them 
never  be  ashamed  that  these  instincts  are  strong),  may 
transform  them  into  the  maternal  instinct  in  caring  for 
children,  "  mothering  "  the  lonely,  or  nursing  the  sick. 
The  sexual  instincts,  debased  to  the  uses  of  fleshly  lust, 
kill  the  soul  and  stifle  all  noble  thought  and  feeling; 
but  from  the  same  soil  there  may  spring  the  stainless 
flower  of  love,  whence  comes  all  that  is  pure  and  holy 
in  human  life. 

The  instinct  of  self-assertion,  when  directed  to  purely 
Individual  ends,  produces  that  aggressive  character 
which  is  as  offensive  as  it  is  anti-social.  Nevertheless 
the  opposite  emotion  of  submission,  if  over-emphasised, 
results  in  a  lack  of  practical  initiative  and  independ- 
ence. The  virtue  which  corresponds  to  these  excesses 
Is  not  to  be  found  in  the  "  mean  "  between  them,  as 
Aristotle  would  say,  but  is  the  right  direction  of  them 
both  to  altruistic  ends.  There  is  room  for  a  new  ethic 
on  these  lines.  A  self-assertion  which  forgets  itself  in 
the  pursuit  of  a  noble  end  is  the  truest  humility.  Sub- 
mission that  is  self-conscious  may  be  egoism  disguised. 

1  The  intimate  connection  between  the  sexual  instinct  and  the  maternal  in- 
stinct is  dcmon'itr.-itcd  hy  the  (iliysioloKical  co  operation  between  the  physical 
organs  corresponding  respectively   to  these  instincts. 


lOO 


THE  SPIRIT  III 


True  humility  consists  not  in  thinking  little  of  oneself, 
but  in  not  thinking  of  oneself  at  all.  Thus  both  sell- 
assertion  and  subniissiveness  are  harmonised,  and  so 
lend  the  force  of  two  combined  instinctive  emotions  to 
the  accomplishment  of  a  noble  end. 

But  more  than  that,  the  instinct  of  self-assertion  is 
at  the  basis  of  the  soise  of  confidence  which  I  shall 
proceed  to  show  is  so  essential  to  a  life  of  power.  Be- 
sides the  intellectual  acceptance  of  the  idea  "  this  is 
possible,"  confidence  consists  in  the  emotional  reaction 
arising  out  of  the  instinct  of  self-assertion,  "  what  is 
possible  /  can  do,"  whether  the  confidence  is  based  on 
the  belief  in  my  own  power  or  in  some  other  power  on 
which  I  can  rely. 

Confidence  and  Faith 

Confidence,  deriving  its  power  from  the  instinct  of 
self-assertion,  turns  weakness  into  strength  and  failure 
into  success. 

"  Somehow,  when  I  started,  I  knew  I  was  going  to 
succeed."  This  is  a  phrase  we  often  hear  on  the  lips  of 
a  man  flushed  with  success.  He  hardly  realises  that  it 
was  his  confidence  in  success,  his  belief  that  he  would 
succeed,  that  gave  him  the  power  to  surmount  his  diffi- 
culties and  win  his  way  to  victory.  All  round  us  we 
see  men  failing  simply  because  they  lack  the  confidence 
that  they  will  succeed,  while  men  with  far  less  ability 
and  talent,  but  with  greater  daring,  carry  off  the  prizes 
that  life  has  to  offer.  It  is  not  that  the  others  do  not 
try,  but  that  they  do  not  expect  to  succeed. 

In  the  section  on  the  will  I  quoted  cases  of  men 
paralysed  in  arms  and  legs  whom  the  will  was  quite 
impotent  to  restore  to  health:  yet  there  was  nothing 
organically  wrong  with  such  patients.  Why,  then, 
were  they  paralysed?  Why  did  not  their  strenuous 
efforts  enable  them  to  walk?  Because  they,  believed 
they  could  not  move  their  limbs.  They  could  say  "  I 
will,"  but  they  had  not  learnt  to  say  "  I  can."  The 
man  paralysed  in  both  legs  would  cling  to  me  with  such 


Ill         THE  PSYCHOLOGY  OF  POWER       loi 

vigour  that  he  nearly  pulled  me  down  with  him  — 
simply  because  he  had  not  the  confidence  to  trust  him- 
self to  walk.  In  the  hypnotic  experiment  on  fatigue 
the  subject  could  only  grip  29  lbs.  because  he  said  "  I 
am  weak,  I  cannot  grip  it  any  harder."  When  he  said, 
and  believed,  "  I  am  strong  and  powerful,"  his  strength 
was  multiplied  fivefold.  I  suddenly  told  another  man 
that  he  could  not  talk;  he  tried,  but  found  that  he  was 
dumb  —  simply  because,  being  suggestible  to  my  words, 
he  lost  confidence  in  his  power  to  speak,  and  believed 
what  I  suggested  to  be  in  fact  true.  In  all  such  cases 
we  have  seen  that  the  will  alone  does  not  ensure  suc- 
cess. "  To  will  is  present  with  me,  but  how  to  perform 
I  know  not."     That  which  is  lacking  is  "  confidence." 

I  have  spoken  of  the  paralysing  effects  of  fear. 
Confidence  removes  this  paralysis  and  turns  belief  into 
a  mighty  impulse  to  act.  It  fills  men  with  the  strength 
which  makes  the  soul  master  of  its  fate.  It  possesses 
the  timid  who  cling  to  the  shores  of  life,  who  have 
toiled  all  night  and  caught  nothing,  and  bids  them 
launch  out  into  the  deep,  where  endeavour  is  crowned 
with  overwhelming  success.  Want  of  belief  in  its  pos- 
sibility is  always  the  main  obstacle  to  the  performing 
of  any  mighty  work.  Faith  in  its  possibility  —  a  faith 
not  necessarily  founded  on  evidence  but  one  that  dares 
to  take  the  risk  —  Is  the  greatest  asset  to  success  In 
any  task.  "If  thou  canst?"  "All  things  are  pos- 
sible to  them  that  believe." 

The  Expenditure  of  Power 
Nature  Is  economic  In  her  gifts:  she  will  not  give 
strength  to  those  who  will  not  expend  It.  These  re- 
main uninspiring  and  uninspired.  She  is  lavish  In  her 
gifts  to  those  who  will  use  them,  and  especially  to  those 
who  devote  them  to  nature's  altruistic  ends,  for  such 
ends  harmonise  the  soul.  Life  demands  expression. 
If  the  life-stream  tiiat  Hows  through  us  finds  the  chan- 
nel blocked  by  a  life  of  inactivity,  we  inevitably  suffer 
from  staleness  and  boredom,   (jr   a   sense   of   physical 


I02 


TllK  SPIRIT  III 


debility.  A  purposeless  life  is  a  life  of  fatigue.  We 
all  know  from  personal  experience  how  tired  we  may 
become  while  doing  nothing,  but  let  us  once  find  an 
outlet  for  our  energies,  some  object  upon  which  to  ex- 
pend them,  and  our  instinctive  powers  awake  us  to  life. 
The  Sea  of  Galilee  is  fresh  and  blue,  and  gives  life  to 
living  creatures  within  its  sunlit  waters  —  not  because 
it  receives  waters,  but  because  it  gives  of  them  freely. 
The  Dead  Sea  is  dead,  not  because  there  is  no  supply 
of  fresh  water,  but  because  it  permits  no  outlet.  It  is 
therefore  stagnant  and  deadly;  no  fish  lives  in  its 
waters,  nor  is  any  beast  to  be  found  upon  its  shores. 
It  is  a  law  of  nature  —  a  law  of  life  —  that  only  by 
giving  shall  we  receive.  None  is  so  healthy  and  fresh 
as  he  who  gives  freely  of  his  strength,  and  thereby 
liberates  his  impulses  and  instinctive  powers  into  quick- 
ened activity.  This  is  of  immense  practical  impor- 
tance. In  the  treatment  of  neurasthenia,  the  chief 
symptom  of  which  is  fatigue,  it  is  often  found  that  the 
"  Weir  Mitchell  "  treatment  of  inactivity  and  isolation 
is  the  worst  a  physician  can  prescribe.  Already  is  the 
patient  suffering  from  too  much  self-consciousness  and 
introspection.  Some  disappointment  or  sorrow  may 
have  taken  all  the  life  out  of  him:  the  zeal  and  keen- 
ness of  his  life  has  suddenly  gone.  In  popular  lan- 
guage, what  he  needs  is  "  something  to  take  him  out  of 
himself  ";  something  to  interest  him,  some  object  which 
will  liberate  the  forces  pent  up  in  his  soul.  Give  such 
a  man  "  something  to  live  for,"  that  awakens  his  inter- 
est, and  his  ambition  will  arouse  his  instinctive  emotions 
till  the  heart  that  was  sluggish  palpitates  with  the  joy 
of  life  once  more,  the  nerves  tingle  with  eager  expecta- 
tion.    Life's  demand  for  expression  will  be  satisfied. 

How  wonderful  is  the  way  in  which,  with  quite 
ordinary  folk,  power  leaps  to  our  aid  in  any  time  of 
emergency.  We  lead  timid  lives,  shrinking  from  diffi- 
cult tasks  till  perhaps  we  are  forced  into  them  or  our- 
selves determine  on  them,  and  immediately  we  seem  to 


Ill         THE  PSYCHOLOGY  OF  POWER       103 

unlock  the  unseen  forces.  When  we  have  to  face 
danger,  then  courage  comes;  when  trial  puts  a  long- 
continued  strain  upon  us,  we  find  ourselves  possessed 
by  the  power  to  endure;  or  when  disaster  ultimately 
brings  the  fall  which  we  so  long  dreaded,  we  feel  under- 
neath us  the  strength  as  of  the  everlasting  arms.  Com- 
mon experience  teaches  that,  when  great  demands  are 
made  upon  us,  if  only  we  fearlessly  accept  the  challenge 
and  confidently  expend  our  strength,  every  danger  or 
difficulty  brings  its  own  strength — "As  thy  days  so 
shall  thy  strength  be." 

Energy  and  Rest 

In  considering  the  causes  of  fatigue  we  found  that 
the  mental  factor  played  a  very  prominent  part.  The 
main  causes  of  such  fatigue  were  over-sensitiveness  to 
ordinary  physical  fatigue,  the  conviction  of  weakness, 
and  the  conflict  of  will  and  emotions  or  of  the  emotions 
with  themselves.  A  life  of  purposeful  and  altruistic 
activity  will  rid  us  of  that  habit  of  introspection  which 
produces  the  first  form  of  fatigue;  the  sense  of  con- 
fidence will  drive  away  thoughts  of  weakness;  and  we 
have  now  to  deal  with  the  third  form,  conflict  within 
the  mind,  the  most  characteristic  form  of  which  is 
worry  and  anxiety.  This  is  to  be  met,  firstly,  by  dis- 
covering and  bringing  into  consciousness  the  latent 
cause  of  our  worry,  which  normally  tends  to  elude  con- 
sciousness. Modern  practice  in  psychotherapy  con- 
firms the  old  belief  that  confession,  more  especially  con- 
fession of  fears  and  anxieties,  is  good  for  the  soul. 
The  "  letting  out  "  of  the  "  repressed  complex  "  is  it- 
self often  sufficient  to  cure;  secondly,  by  converting  the 
instincts  and  directing  their  energies  towards  useful  and 
harmonious  ends;  and,  thirdly,  by  cultivating  a  rest  ful- 
ness of  mind  which  is  the  counterpart  of  a  life  of  energy. 

W^eakness  results  from  the  wastage  caused  by  rest- 
lessness of  mind;  Power  comes  from  a  condition  of 
mental  quietude.  The  secret  of  energy  is  to  learn  to 
keep  the  mind  at  rest,  c\cn  in  the  multitude  of  life's 


I04  THE  SPIRIT  m 

acti\ities.  Look  at  this  patient  suffering  from  neur- 
asthenia. He  complains  that  he  is  suffering  from 
fatigue;  but  there  is  another  symptom  you  notice  about 
him  —  he  is  irritable,  cannot  stand  noises,  cannot  bear 
to  be  crossed  or  disturbed.  The  fatigue  and  the  irri- 
tability are  part  of  the  same  trouble.  It  is  a  char- 
acteristic of  nervous  patients  that  they  are  always 
restless:  they  tell  you  that  they  must  always  be  doing 
something,  always  be  "  on  the  go."  They  cannot  con- 
centrate, they  cannot  remember.  They  are  in  a  state 
of  perpetual  motion.  They  are  worried  and  anxious, 
fret  and  are  irritable,  until,  through  sheer  exhaustion 
of  mind,  they  drift  into  the  most  characteristic  condi- 
tion of  the  neurasthenic,  that  of  fatigue.  And  it  is  not 
surprising  that  such  men  become  fatigued.  The  aver- 
age neurasthenic  is  ordered  to  take  a  rest  in  the  after- 
noon, but  he  spends  the  time  in  reading  the  paper; 
he  goes  to  bed  early  at  night,  but  sits  up  reading  a 
novel.  He  gives  his  body  more  rest  than  it  needs, 
failing  to  realise  that  what  the  body  needs  is  not  re- 
laxation but  re-invigoration.  At  the  same  time  he 
never  permits  his  mind  that  rest  which  alone  can 
enable  it  to  invigorate  the  body.  It  is  characteristic 
of  the  neurasthenic  that  in  the  morning,  possibly  after 
a  long  night's  sleep,  he  wakes  up  more  fatigued  than 
he  went  to  bed;  for  though  his  body  has  had  many 
hours'  rest,  his  mind  has  been  restless  and  perturbed 
even  in  sleep. 

This  art  of  resting  the  mind  and  the  power  of  dis- 
missing from  it  all  care  and  worry  is  probably  one  of 
the  secrets  of  energy  in  our  great  men.  It  is  generally 
said  that  Edison,  the  Inventor,  finds  four  hours'  sleep 
sufficient  for  his  needs  and  that  he  works  for  eighteen 
hours.  If  that  is  the  case,  I  can  conceive  him  as  a  man 
whose  mind,  in  spite  of  the  nature  of  his  work,  has  the 
power  of  banishing  all  the  problems  and  difficulties  of 
the   day.     This,    I    understand,   was   also   one   of   the 


Ill         THE  PSYCHOLOGY  OF  POWER       105 

secrets  of  the  energy  of  Gladstone,  and  probably  also 
of  many  other  great  men  who  have  the  power  to  free 
their  minds  entirely  from  the  business  of  the  day  in 
dreamless  sleep.  Look  into  the  face  of  Napoleon  and, 
besides  the  cruelty  there,  you  will  see  that  perfect  com- 
posure and  calm  which  stamps  him  as  a  man  of  great 
reserv^e  power. ^ 

The  mental  and  moral  strain  that  some  men  have  to 
undergo  seems  incredible.  In  the  course  of  a  day  a 
Prime  Minister,  for  Instance,  guides  the  counsels  of 
state,  directs  wars,  settles  Industrial  disputes,  and  con- 
ducts diplomatic  relations  with  other  nations,  all  in 
addition  to  the  ordinary  cares  of  his  private  affairs. 
Compare  his  output  of  energy  with  that,  say,  of  his 
barber,  whose  anxieties  are  confined  to  his  little  shop, 
whose  disputes  are  concerned  only  with  his  two  assist- 
ants, and  whose  diplomacy  reaches  Its  height  in  his 
attempt  to  persuade  you  to  buy  his  hair  lotion  without 
suggesting  that  you  are  bald.  Yet,  If  you  observe  these 
two  men  at  the  close  of  day,  probably  the  Prime 
Minister  is  the  less  fatigued  of  the  two.  The  thing 
that  strikes  us  is  that,  however  much  energy  such  a 
man  expends,  there  always  seems  to  be  an  ample  re- 
supply  which  keeps  him  vigorous  and  fresh. 

At  the  present  time  I  am  treating  each  morning 
about  twenty  neurasthenic  patients  at  once  by  hypnotic 
suggestion.  I  always  commence  treatment  by  sugges- 
tions of  quietness  and  calmness  of  mind,  of  freedom 
from  anxiety  and  the  passing  away  of  all  nervousness 
and  fear.  To  attempt  to  stimulate  a  restless  and 
worried  mind  with  energetic  suggestions  is  as  futile  as 
whipping  a  dying  horse.  When  the  mind  Is  quiet  and 
rested,  only  then  do  I  suggest  thoughts  of  vigour  of 
mind,  strength  of  body,  and  determination  of  will. 
Inspiring,  stimulating  thoughts,  falling  on  a  mind  calm 
and  receptive,  draw   from  Its  silent  depths  ample  re- 

1  It  is  intprestin(j  to  note  that,  even  pliysioloRically,  Napoleon  was  coii- 
stnictc'l  with  a  (pnwcr  of  rest  sli.iri-<l  by  few  men,  for  lie  had  .1  pulse  rate  of 
only   about   50   compared   with   the   normal    rate   of   75. 


io6  THE  SPIRIT  m 

sources  of  strength  which  produce  calmness  and  peace. 
The  confidence  and  happiness  with  which  these  men  rise 
from  their  half-hour's  rest  Is  a  proof  that  this  rest, 
unlike  the  neurasthenic's  ordinary  night's  "  rest,"  has 
brought  them  Into  touch  with  untold  resources  of 
power. 

The  art  of  alternating  rest  and  activity  Is  an  art  well 
worth  acquiring.  Some  people  have  the  power  of 
putting  themselves  to  sleep  for  five  or  ten  minutes  at 
any  time  of  the  day.  This  carries  with  It  the  power 
of  dismissing  from  the  mind  at  any  time  all  cares, 
which  forthwith 

fold  up  their  tents  like  the  Arabs 
And  silently   steal  away. 

Night  time  should  be  reserved  for  sleep,  and  no 
thoughts  of  the  day  should  be  permitted  to  break  Into 
the  preserves  of  sleep. 

I  once  put  Into  a  short  hypnotic  sleep  a  patient, 
tremulous,  anxious,  sleepless.  When  he  awakened  he 
spontaneously  remarked  that  that  was  the  best  sleep  he 
had  had  for  months,  and  on  being  questioned  replied 
that  he  thought  he  had  slept  for  several  hours,  whereas, 
in  point  of  fact,  he  had  slept  only  a  few  minutes. 
During  those  few  moments  he  had  had  a  perfect  con- 
trol over  a  mind  worried  with  anxious  thoughts. 

That  the  life  of  energy  Is  dependent  on  the  art  of 
resting  is  one  of  the  fundamental  laws  of  physiology  as 
well  as  of  psychology.  The  alternation  of  rest  and 
work  is  necessary  for  the  activity  of  life.  Even  the 
heart  is  not  always  active,  as  is  sometimes  supposed; 
it  has  its  periods  of  repose  at  the  end  of  each  beat  when 
there  is  a  rest  and  relaxation,  which,  though  It  lasts 
only  the  fraction  of  a  second,  Is  sufficient  to  refresh  it 
for  the  next  beat.  In  the  last  section  we  mentioned 
the  fact  that  a  nerve  was  practically  unfatiguable. 
That  fact  is  not  due  to  there  being  no  wastage,  for  the 
nerve  tissue  Is  always  being  used  up;  as  Waller  says,  the 
nerve  "  is  inexhaustible,  not  because  there  Is  little  or  no 


Ill         THE  PSYCHOLOGY  OF  POWER       107 

expenditure,  but  because  there  is  an  ample  re-supply." 
The  nerve  rests  for  only  a  very  small  fraction  of  a 
second  between  the  electric  shocks  which  pass  along 
It,  yet  in  that  moment  of  rest  It  is  able  to  draw  upon 
that  ample  re-supply  which  relnvigorates  it  to  renewed 
activity.  These  physiological  principles  point  the  way 
to  find  refreshment  of  the  mind.  There  are  ample 
resources  of  power  at  our  disposal,  but  In  the  course 
of  our  life  we  need  moments  of  mental  rest  when  the 
soul  can  go  apart  and  rest  awhile.  Life,  like  music, 
has  its  rhythm  of  silence  as  well  as  of  sound;  It  has  Its 
crests  of  surging  energy,  and  Its  quiet  calm  In  the 
trough  of  the  wave.  Life  has  Its  moments  of  throb- 
bing energy,  but  needs  also  Its  moments  of  relaxation. 
The  restful  life  does  not  demand  that  we  withdraw 
from  the  world  in  ascetic  retreat;  but  It  demands  such 
a  control  of  our  thoughts  and  feelings  that,  even  when 
active  in  body,  we  can  have  that  quiescence  of  mind 
which  is  itself  the  most  perfect  rest. 

And  out  of  that  tranquillity  shall  rise 
The  end  and  healing  of  our  earthly  pains, 
Since  the  mind  governed  is  the  mind  at  rest. 

The  Source  of  Energy 

This  Essay  has  raised  the  question  as  to  whether  our 
strength  comes  from  within  ourselves,  in  which  case  we 
may  be  conceived  as  a  reservoir  of  energy,  or  whether 
it  is  derived  from  an  outside  source,  using  us  as  a 
channel  for  its  activity.  (i)  It  is  true  that  we  do 
store  up  a  certain  amount  of  energy  derived,  physiolog- 
ically from  the  nutriment  of  food  and  air,  psychologi- 
cally from  the  myriads  of  Impressions  of  sight,  sound, 
and  touch,  which  are  continually  falling  upon  our  senses 
and  being  recorded  and  stored,  probably  in  the  lower 
brain  centres.  (2)  But  what  we  have  been  specially 
considering  are  not  these  acquired  energies,  but  the 
great  hereditary  Instinctive  powers  which  have  borne 
down  like  a  wave  through  humanity  from  generation 
to  generation.      (3)    Several  of  the  greatest  psycholo- 


io8  THE  SPIRIT  m 

pists,  and,  in  particular,  those  clinical  psychologists 
who  have  to  deal  with  the  actual  diseases  of  men,  have 
tended  towards  the  view  that  the  source  of  power  is  to 
be  regarded  as  some  impulse  that  works  through  us, 
and  is  not  of  our  own  making.  What  Janet  calls 
"  mental  energy  "  is  a  force  which  ebbs  in  the  neur- 
asthenic and  flows  in  the  healthy  man;  Jung  speaks  of 
libido  or  ur^c  as  a  force  which  surges  through  our 
lives,  now  as  an  impulse  towards  nutrition,  now  as  the 
sexual  instinct;  there  is  also  the  c-laii  vital  of  Bersson. 
These  views  suggest  that  we  are  not  merely  receptacles' 
but  clunnifls  of  energy.  Life  and  power  is  not  so  much 
contained  in  us,  it  courses  through  us.  Man's  might 
is  not  to  be  measured  by  the  stagnant  water  in  the 
well,  but  by  the  limitless  supply  from  the  clouds  of 
heaven.  These  descriptive  theories  represent  man  as 
borne  on  the  crest  of  an  impulse  which  he  can  only 
partially  control.  Whether  we  are  to  look  upon  this 
impulse  as  cosmic  encrg\%  as  a  life  force,  or  what  may 
be  its  relation  to  the  Divine  immanence  in  Nature,  it  is 
for  other  investigators  to  say.  It  is  the  business  of 
the  philosopher  to  speculate  upon  the  ultimate  nature 
of  reality.  The  scientist  has  merely  to  study  the  laws 
of  its  manifestation  in  concrete  expression.  I  merely 
wish  to  point  out  that  the  views  expressed  above  as  to 
the  derivation  of  our  human  energies  from  the  in- 
stinctive emotions  does  not  exclude  the  foregoing  or 
any  other  theories  as  to  their  ultimate  source,  which  is 
yet  a  matter  of  speculation. 

The  Dynamic  of  Religion 

While  it  has  not  been  the  purpose  of  this  Essay  to 
deal  with  questions  of  theology,  I  cannot  help  pointing 
out  that  our  discussion  of  the  psychology  of  power  has 
a  very  direct  bearing  on  the  question  of  the  dynamic  of 
religion,  and  especially  on  the  power  possessed  by  the 
Christian  religion  of  liberating  energies  which  can 
transform  the  living  soul  into  a  quickening  spirit.  In 
its    fundamental    doctrine   of  love   to   God   and   man, 


Ill         THE  PSYCHOLOGY  OF  POWER        109 

Christianity  harmonises  the  emotions  of  the  soul  into 
one  inspiring  purpose,  thereby  abolishing  all  conflict, 
and  liberating  instead  of  suppressing  the  free  energies 
of  men.  In  its  doctrine  of  the  Spirit  it  emphasises  the 
element  of  power  in  religion.  No  reader  of  the  New 
Testament  can  fail  to  be  struck  by  the  constant  reitera- 
tion in  different  forms  of  the  idea  that  the  normal 
experience  of  a  Christian  at  that  epoch  was  enhance- 
ment of  power  —  "I  can  do  all  things  "  —  an  enhance- 
ment attributed  by  them  to  the  operation  in  and 
through  them  of  a  divine  energy  to  which  the  com- 
munity gave  the  name  of  the  "Spirit"  —  "Ye  shall 
receive  power."  Pentecost,  the  healing  miracles  of  the 
Apostolic  Age,  the  triumphant  progress  of  the  religion 
through  the  Roman  Empire,  the  heroic  deeds  of  saints 
and  martyrs, —  all  these  point  to  the  sense  of  a  power 
newly  discovered.  In  contrast,  looking  at  the  Church 
of  to-day,  one  cannot  but  be  struck  with  its  powerless- 
ness.  It  contains  men  of  intellect;  it  produces  a  type 
of  piety  and  devotion  which  one  cannot  but  admire;  it 
sacrifices  itself  in  works  of  kindness  and  beneficence; 
but  even  its  best  friends  would  not  claim  that  it  inspires 
in  the  world  the  sense  of  power.  What  strikes  one 
rather  is  its  impotence  and  failure.  This  want  of  in- 
spiration and  power  is  associated  with  the  fact  that  men 
no  longer  believe  in  the  existence  of  the  Spirit  in  any 
effective  practical  way.  They  believe  in  God  the 
^'ather,  and  they  are  reverent;  they  believe  in  the  Son, 
and  the  Church  numbers  amongst  its  members  millions 
who  humbly  try  to  "  follow  in  His  steps  ";  but  for  all 
practical  purposes  they  are  like  that  little  band  at 
Ephesus  who  had  "  not  so  much  as  heard  whether 
there  be  any  Holy  Ghost,"  and,  lacking  the  inspiration 
of  such  a  belief,  they  are  weak  and  wonder  why. 

In  this  place  I  need  only  indicate  the  close  connection 
between  restfulness  of  mind,  so  essential  to  the  cure  of 
nervous  ills,  and  that  characteristic  of  religious  devo- 
tion.     "  They  that  ziail  on  the  Lord  shall  rcuciv  their 


no  Till-:  SPIRIT  III 

strength."  There  is  the  alternation  of  repose  and 
work,  and  the  insistence  on  the  source  of  strength  being 
of  a  psychical  and  not  a  physical  character.  Chris- 
tianity also  teaches  that  to  learn  to  rest,  not  only  in 
moments  snatched  from  our  work  but  by  keeping  a 
mind  free  from  worry  and  anxiety,  neither  caring  for 
the  morrow  nor  fearful  of  the  forgiven  past,  is  to 
give  ourselves  the  opportunity  of  drawing  on  that 
"  ample  re-supply  "  which  comes  to  those  who  do  not 
fear  to  expend  their  energy  for  others.  Life  will  throb 
within  and  through  us,  but  our  souls  will  be  in  repose. 

The  religious  writings  of  men  of  old  constantly  em- 
phasised confidence  and  cheerfulness  as  the  keynote  to 
strength.  "  In  quietness  and  confidence  shall  be  your 
strength."  "  Let  not  your  heart  be  troubled."  "  Be 
not  anxious."  "  Be  of  good  cheer,  I  have  overcome 
the  world."  "  Say  unto  them  of  a  fearful  heart,  '  Be 
strong,  fear  not.'  "  Such  words  as  the  following  are 
literally  fulfilled  before  our  eyes  in  a  shell-shock  hos- 
pital of  the  present  day.  "  The  eyes  of  the  blind  shall 
be  opened,  and  the  ears  of  the  deaf  be  unstopped. 
Then  shall  the  lame  man  leap  as  an  hart  and  the  tongue 
of  the  dumb  shall  sing.  They  shall  obtain  gladness  and 
joy,  and  sorrow  and  sighing  shall  flee  away."  Accur- 
ately and  wonderfully  these  words  describe  both  the 
treatment  by  the  suggestion  of  confidence  and  its  effects, 
as  well  on  the  body  as  on  the  mind. 

This  power  which  the  Church  has  lost  is  being  re- 
discovered, but  along  different  lines.  The  psycho- 
therapist, who  is  a  physician  of  the  soul,  has  been  com- 
pelled to  acknowledge  the  validity  of  the  practical 
principles  of  the  Christian  religion,  though  he  may  or 
may  not  accept  the  doctrines  on  which  they  are  said  to 
be  based. 

Speaking  as  a  student  of  psychotherapy,  who,  as 
such,  has  no  concern  with  theology,  I  am  convinced 
that  the  Christian  religion  is  one  of  the  most  valuable 
and  potent  influences  that  we  possess  for  producing  that 


Ill         THE  PSYCHOLOGY  OF  POWER       m 

harmony  and  peace  of  mind  and  that  confidence  of  soul 
which  is  needed  to  bring  health  and  power  to  a  large 
proportion  of  nervous  patients.  In  some  cases  I  have 
attempted  to  cure  nervous  patients  with  suggestions  of 
quietness  and  confidence,  but  without  success  until  I 
have  linked  these  suggestions  on  to  that  faith  in  the 
power  of  God  which  is  the  substance  of  the  Christian's 
confidence  and  hope.  Then  the  patient  has  become 
strong.^ 

I  have  tried  to  show  that  the  experience  of  applied 
psychology,  and  especially  psychotherapy,  points  to- 
wards the  conclusion  that  we  are  living  far  below  the 
limits  of  our  possible  selves,  and  that  there  are  open 
to  us  resources  of  power,  available  through  the  right 
use  of  our  instincts,  which,  if  directed  to  noble  pur- 
poses, will  free  our  minds  from  those  worries, 
anxieties,  and  morbid  fatigue  which  spoil  our  lives,  and 
will  free  us  for  a  life  of  energy  and  strength. 

In  the  course  of  my  argument  I  have  indicated  direc- 
tions in  which  this  line  of  investigation  cannot  but 
affect  the  theory  and  practice  of  religion:  to  have  done 
more  than  indicate  directions  might  have  seemed  pre- 
sumptuous in  one  who  speaks  as  a  student  of  science 
rather  than  as  a  philosopher  or  theologian.  I  hope, 
however,   that   I   have  made  it  clear  that   few  things 

1  Lest  this  should  be  considered  a  prejudiced  view  I  quote  from  Jung  (.-i»a- 
lytical  Psychology) :  "  I  have  come  to  the  conclusion  that  these  religious  and 
philosophical  motive  forces  —  the  so-called  metaphysical  needs  of  the  human. 
being  —  must  receive  positive  consideration  at  the  hands  of  the  analyst  (physi- 
cian>  ...  he  must  make  them  serve  biological  ends  as  psychologically  valuable 
factors.  Thus  these  instincts  assume  once  more  those  functions  that  have  been 
theirs  from  time  immemorial."  Again  in  a  volume  entitled  The  Christian  Re- 
ligion as  a  Healing  Power  (K.  Worcester  and  others),  I  find  quoted  some 
weighty  opinions.  Mobius,  the  neurologist,  says:  "  The  consciousness  of  be- 
ing within  the  hand  of  Providence,  the  confident  hope  of  future  righteousness 
and  redemption,  is  a  support  to  the  believer  in  his  work,  his  care  and  his  need, 
for  which  unbelief  has  no  compensation.  If  we  consider  the  eflect  of  irreligion 
as  increasing  our  helplessness  to  resist  the  storms  of  life,  its  relation  to  nervous- 
ness cannot  be  doubted."  "  Religious  faith,"  says  Dubois  of  Berne,  himself  an 
agnostic,  "  would  be  the  best  preventative  against  the  maladies  of  the  soul  and 
the  most  powerful  means  of  curing  them,  if  it  had  sufficient  life  to  create  true 
Christian  stoicism  in  its  followers.  I'"eeling  himself  upheld  by  his  God,  he  fears 
neither  sickness  nor  death  ...  he  remains  unshaken  in  the  midst  of  his  suffer- 
ings, and  is  inaccessible  to  the  cowardly  emotions  of  nervous  people."  Dr. 
Clouston  of  KdinbiirKh,  the  specialist  in  mental  diseases,  says,  "  to  treat  of  the 
hygiene  of  the  mind,  without  including  a  consideration  of  the  religious  instinct 
and   its   effects,   would   be   to   omit  one   of   its   most   powerful    factor*." 


112  THE  SPIRIT  III 

would  be  ot  more  value,  whether  for  medical  science, 
for  everyday  conduct,  or  for  religion,  than  such  a  re- 
interpretation  of  some  of  the  fundamental  beliefs  of 
Christianity  as  would  make  them  intellectually  possible 
of  acceptance  to  the  modern  man.  And  Psychology 
has  opened  up  lines  along  which  one  may  look  to  see 
effected  that  reconciliation  between  science  and  religion, 
the  attempt  to  procure  which  led  to  an  impasse  a  gen- 
eration ago  because  "  science  "  was  taken  almost  ex- 
clusively to  mean  Physics.  The  main  object,  however, 
of  the  Essay  has  been  practical  —  to  show  that  there 
are  resources  of  power  at  the  disposal  of  all.  But  the 
fact  that  so  many  seek  for  power  and  yet  do  not  receive 
it  suggests  that  piety  is  not  the  only  requisite  of  power. 
To  obtain  it  we  must  obey  the  higher  laws  of  nature, 
and  in  particular  make  use  of  the  forces  we  already 
find  at  our  human  disposal;  and  fearlessly  expending 
them  in  a  spirit  of  confidence  for  the  fulfilment  of  our 
ideals,  we  shall  harmonise  mind,  will,  and  emotion  in 
one  throbbing  impulse  of  life  and  power. 

Taking,  then,  the  instincts  in  their  cruder  form  as 
handed  down  to  us  by  our  brutish  ancestry,  we  should 
seek  not  to  suppress  them,  but  to  use  the  powers  which 
lie  latent  in  them.  We  may  transform  where  we  can- 
not suppress,  and,  by  aid  of  reason  and  the  higher 
emotions,  re-direct  the  lower  instincts  to  nobler  pur- 
poses. We  need  not  obstruct,  but  press  into  our  ser- 
vice, the  passions  of  the  soul;  we  can  fill  our  sails  with 
the  very  winds  and  gales  which  threaten  the  shipwreck 
of  our  lives;  tap  the  resources  of  the  lightning  which 
ruthlessly  destroys,  and  turn  its  electric  power  into  the 
driving-force  of  our  enterprises. 


IV 

WHAT  HAPPENED  AT  PENTECOST 

BY 

C.  A.  ANDERSON  SCOTT,  MA.,  D.D. 

PBOFESSOU    OF   THE    NEW    TESTAMENT    AT    WESTMINSTER    COLLEGE,    CAMBRIDGE 

AUTHOR   OF 
DOUINUS  NOSIER,"   COMMENTARY   ON    REVELATION    IN   "  CKNTURV   BIBLK,"   ETC. 


SYNOPSIS 

Introduction. —  Current  answers  may  be  true,  but  are  not  adequate 
—  orijiin  of  conception  of  spirit.  Specific  contribution  of  Hebrew  mind, 
the  idea  of  tlie  Spirit  of  God.  Functions  assigned  to  the  Spirit, 
especially  that  of  inspiration.  Operations  sporatiic  and  discontinuous. 
Ethical  connotation  of  the  idea  but  slightly  developed  in  the  Old 
Testament.  Profound  change  in  the  conception  of  the  Spirit  due  to 
tlie  teaching  of  Christ,  and  the  experience  of  Pentecost. 

The  Ipper  Room. —  The  persons  present  were  taking  up  a  common 
faith  attitude  to  Jesus  —  the  miraculous  features  of  the  narrative  are 
capable  of  explanation  along  the  lines  of  psychological  phenomena  and 
traditional  accompaniments  of  the  Spirit.  The  speaking  with  tongues 
was  not  comprehensible:  its  true  character.  The  narrative  is  not  the 
result  of  mythical  accretion.  There  has  been  a  converse  process  of 
clarification  of  the  experience  through  the  application  of  the  ethical 
criterion.     The  "  founding  of  the  Church  "  not  an  adequate  explanation. 

The  New  Thing:  Emergency  of  the  Fellowship. —  Significance 
of  the  Koirionia.  Illustrations  of  its  importance  from  the  Acts  and  from 
St.  Paul.  The  power  of  the  Spirit  was  first  manifested  in  permanent 
form  in  the  emergence  of  the  Fellowship,  with  Agape  for  its  connecting 
tissue.     Nature  of  the  Fellowship. 

The  Symbol  of  the  Fellowships:  the  Loaf. —  There  is  a  symbolism 
attaching  to  the  Loaf  even  prior  to  the  breaking  —  and  a  symbolism  in 
the  breaking.  Further,  the  Body  represented  by  the  Loaf  was  there  to 
be  offered  up. 

The  Fellowship  the  Organ  of  Insight. —  The  intense  vitality  of 
the  new  community  was  manifested  alike  in  thought  and  in  diversity 
of  organisation.  A  clue  to  the  meaning  of  St.  Paul's  formula  "  in 
Christ." 

The  Ethical  Confirmation. 

Further  Results:  Gifts  and  Powers. 

What  a  New  Pentecost  would  be  like. 


IV 

WHAT  HAPPENED  AT  PENTECOST 

The  coming  of  the  Spirit?  But  was  there  any  time 
when  the  Spirit  was  not  at  work  among  God's  people? 
Was  there  any  people  In  whom  God's  Spirit  did  not 
continually  seek  to  operate  or  "  rule  "  (Gen.  vi.  3)? 
Was  there  any  people  that  did  not  show  some  results 
of  the  Spirit's  working  in  Intellectual  and  moral 
progress? 

The  birth  of  the  Church?  But  was  there  not  al- 
ready "  a  Church  "  existing  In  some  real  sense  before 
the  day  of  Pentecost?  Was  It  not  present  as  a  Chris- 
tian Church  from  the  day  when  Jesus  first  gathered 
round  Himself  a  band  of  permanent  disciples  —  not  to 
speak  of  the  existence  of  a  Church  of  God  under  vari- 
ous aspects  from  the  time  that  God  called  His  people 
out  of  Egypt?  What  was  afterwards  described  as 
"  the  fruit  of  the  Spirit  "  was  not  a  new  phenomenon 
in  any  of  its  parts;  no  generation  had  been  without 
some  witness  of  the  response  of  man  to  the  ethical 
ideals  of  God. 

Neither  the  presence  of  the  Spirit,  nor  the  recogni- 
tion of  that  presence,  nor  yet  some  results  of  It,  had 
been  lacking  prior  to  Pentecost.  What  then  happened 
that  was  so  epoch-making?  It  is  plain  that  though 
most  of  the  answers  which  are  commonly  given  to 
this  question  are  correct,  few,  if  any,  of  them  penetrate 
to  the  heart  of  the  matter  as  an  experience  which 
produced  such  stupendous  results. 

To  find  a  true  answer  to  the  question  we  must  first 
examine  the  origin  of  the  conception  of  "  the  Spirit," 
and  then  the  limitations  under  which  prior  to  Pentecost 
the  Spirit  was  understood  to  work. 

115 


ii6  THE  SPIRIT  IV 

The  origin  of  the  conception  lies  far  back  in  the 
history  of  human  thought.  Earlier  than  any  written 
record,  it  is  nevertheless  not  obscurely  indicated  by 
the  history  of  human  speech.  This  testifies  that  the 
fundamental  Idea  underlying  the  word  "  spirit  "  is 
that  of  invisible  force.  The  earliest  form  of  invisible 
force  of  which  men  became  aware  was  undoubtedly 
the  wind  without,  the  breath  within,  themselves.  And 
there  is  great  significance  In  the  fact  that  in  many 
languages  the  same  word  has  stood  for  "  wind," 
"  breath,"  and  "  spirit."  The  spectacle  of  the  leaves 
being  whirled  over  the  ground,  or  of  the  trees  shaken 
by  the  gale,  was  impressive  evidence  of  an  invisible 
force.  A  similar  invisible  force  within  man  himself 
was  somehow  connected  with  his  being  "  alive."  When 
man  "  whose  breath  Is  In  his  nostrils,"  "  breathed 
his  last,"  the  power  that  animated  him  departed.  He 
ceased  to  "live";  but  what  about  the  power?  Did 
it  cease  to  be,  or  to  be  Invisible  force?  If  it  did  not 
disperse.  If  it  continued  to  exist.  It  was  natural  to 
think  of  it  as  still  his  "  breath,"  his  "  spirit,"  invisible 
but  not  wholly  unknown,  seeing  that  the  man  him- 
self had  been  knovt^n.  And  to  it  came  to  be  ascribed 
not  only  a  continuance  of  existence  but  a  continuance 
of  force  or  Influence.  To  human  beings  in  almost 
total  ignorance  of  the  "  natural  "  causes  of  phenomena 
which  affected  them,  perhaps  the  readiest  explanation 
of  such  happenings  would  be  the  Influence  still  exer- 
cised by  the  "spirits"  of  the  departed  —  more  espe- 
cially when  the  event  corresponded  to  their  disposition 
when  alive,  malevolent  or  otherwise.  Thus  for  men 
at  a  certain  stage  of  development  the  unseen  world,  the 
air  or  the  sky,  came  to  be  peopled  with  invisible  spirit- 
forces,  manifesting  in  the  experience  of  those  they 
affected  characters  of  good  or  evil. 

By  a  converse  process  it  was  natural  to  ascribe  to 
other  Invisible  forces  of  Nature,  as  they  were  success- 
ively discerned,  entity  and  character  corresponding  to 


IV      WHAT  HAPPENED  AT  PENTECOST    117 

what  was  observed  In  men.  And  so  to  unseen  forces 
of  human  origin  were  added  "  super-human  "  forces, 
what  St.  Paul  calls  "  the  spirit-forces  in  the  unseen  " 
(Eph.  vi.  12). 

Upon  this  basis  of  speculation  common  at  least  to 
most  primitive  religions  the  Hebrew  mind  developed 
a  conception  which  appears  to  have  been  peculiar  to 
itself,  part  of  its  specific  contribution  to  human  thought 
about  God.  Alone  among  the  races  of  which  we  have 
record  the  Hebrews  conceived  of  the  "  Spirit  of  God." 
They  thought  of  their  God  Jehovah  as  having  a 
"Spirit";  and  Increasingly,  as  time  went  on,  they 
traced  the  effects  of  the  Divine  Will,  especially  those 
which  were  startling  or  abnormal,  to  the  agency  of 
this  Spirit.  This  was  partly  due  to  the  Increasing 
reluctance  to  ascribe  such  things  to  the  direct  opera- 
tion of  God,  the  increasing  tendency  to  feel  a  necessity 
for  intermediaries  between  God  Himself  and  man. 
The  old  frank  and  simple  anthropomorphism  had  not 
felt  that  necessity.  God  conversed  directly  with  men. 
But  a  change  had  followed  the  revelation  which  came 
through  the  prophets,  of  the  "  holiness  "  and  the  uni- 
versality of  God.  To  the  attribute  of  ritual  "  holi- 
ness "  or  separation  was  added  that  of  ethical  separate- 
ness :  "  Thou  art  of  purer  eyes  than  to  behold  iniquity." 
At  the  same  time  the  discovery  was  made  that  the  God 
of  Israel  was  "  the  Lord  of  all  the  earth."  In  both 
ways,  through  the  moralising  of  His  "  holiness  "  and 
the  Increase  of  His  majesty.  It  became  increasingly 
difficult  to  think  of  God  entering  into  immediate  com- 
munication with  men.  Human  sinfulness  and  the 
Divine  "  holiness,"  human  littleness  and  the  Divine 
"  majesty  " —  to  account  for  communication  or  Inter- 
course between  these  wide  extremes  It  seemed  neces- 
sary to  posit  the  operation  of  intermediate  agencies. 
Sometimes  these  were  represented  by  "  spirits,"  "  mes- 
sengers," or  "  angels  "  sent  "  from  the  Lord  ":  "  who 
maketh  His  angels  spirits,  his  ministers  a  llaming  fire." 


ii8  THE  SPIRIT  IV 

But  even  more  coiniiioiily  the  agency  was  ascribed  to 
some  specific  energy  of  the  Divine  being — God's 
Word,  God's  Wisdom,  or  God's  Spirit. 

It  does  not  appear  that  the  writers  of  the  Old  Tes- 
tament drew  any  exclusive  distinction  between  these 
forms  of  the  Divine  activity  in  respect  of  the  func- 
tions which  were  assigned  to  one  or  other  of  them. 
The  place  of  Agent  in  Creation,  for  example,  is  as- 
signed by  different  writers  to  each  of  the  three,  to 
the  Word,  the  W^isdom,  and  the  Spirit  (Ps.  civ.  30) 
of  God.  Nevertheless  there  are  certain  functions 
which  were  assigned  to  the  Spirit  as  peculiarly  appro- 
priate to  its  activity.  These  include  the  enhancement 
in  certain  men  of  their  natural  gifts  and  powers, 
such  as  wisdom,  judgement,  skill,  and  craftsmanship. 
But  there  Is  one  function  which  Is  specially  assigned  to 
the  Spirit  in  the  Old  Testament,  that  of  "  inspiration." 
It  was  the  Spirit  that  took  possession  of  men,  and 
became  the  organ  of  Divine  communication  through 
men  to  other  men.  It  is  the  Spirit  that  Inspires  men  to 
"  prophesy,"  that  Is,  primarily,  to  give  ecstatic  utter- 
ance to  religious  emotion  and  conviction.  Possession 
of  and  by  the  Spirit  was  sole  and  sufficient  authority  for 
speaking  the  truth  of  God  in  the  name  of  God  (Is. 
Ixl.  i).  In  the  Old  Testament  this  operation  of  the 
Spirit  is  both  sporadic  and  discontinuous.  It  was  recog- 
nised from  time  to  time  In  certain  individuals  or  in  cer- 
tain groups.  It  was  not  part  of  the  general  and  con- 
tinuous endowment  of  God's  people.  And  we  nave  a 
measure  both  of  the  value  attached  to  the  manifesta- 
tion, and  of  the  wistful  desire  for  its  extension,  in  the 
fact  that  part  of  the  promise  held  out  regarding  the 
Messianic  period  was  a  wide  extension.  If  not  a  uni- 
versallslng,  of  the  gift:  "I  will  pour  out  my  spirit 
upon  all  flesh;  and  your  sons  and  your  daughters  shall 
prophesy  "  (Joel  li.  28). 

It  is  only  very  rarely  In  the  Old  Testament  that  the 
Spirit  appears  as  agent  in  the  sphere  of  physical  nature: 


IV     WHAT  HAPPENED  AT  PENTECOST    119 

"  The  Spirit  works  on  man  and  through  man."  And 
still  more  rarely  is  its  influence  represented  as  affecting 
the  moral  nature  of  man. 

The  modern  reader  is  apt  to  take  the  contrary  for 
granted.  It  is  natural  to  assume  that  throughout  the 
Bible  the  specific  influence  of  "  the  Holy  Spirit  "  is 
and  must  be  towards  "  holiness,"  "  sanctification,"  in 
the  meaning  which  we  attach  to  the  words  to-day. 
The  fact,  however,  is  that  we  owe  it  to  the  teaching  of 
Christ  that  we  give  an  ethical  meaning  to  these  words 
to-day.  Only  twice  in  the  Old  Testament  does  the 
phrase  "holy  spirit"  occur  (Ps.  li.  11,  Is.  Ixiii.  10). 
And  prior  to  the  revelation  through  Him  there  was  at 
most  only  a  rudimentary  trace  of  ethical  meaning  in 
the  words  "  holy,"  "  holiness."  In  the  Old  Testament 
they  signify  primarily,  and  almost  exclusively,  "  separ- 
ated "  or  ''  dedicated,"  and  so  "  belonging  to  God  " 
Whereas  in  the  Epistles  of  the  New  Testament  the 
ethical  significance  of  the  words  has  established  Itself, 
and  is  rapidly  advancing  to  a  position  of  predominance, 
though  not  to  the  entire  exclusion  of  the  earlier 
"  ritual  "  meaning.^  If  we  find  in  the  later  portions 
of  the  Old  Testament  the  beginnings  oi  the  Idea  that 
he  who  is  "  holy  "  as  belonging  to  God  ought  to  be  and 
is  on  the  way  to  be  "  holy  "  in  the  sense  of  conformity 
to  His  character,  it  Is  to  Christ  that  we  owe  not  only 
the  confirmation  of  the  possibility  but  the  full  contents 
of  the  conception.-  "  Holy  Spirit  "  in  the  Old  Testa- 
ment is  best  represented  to  our  minds  by  "  Divine 
Spirit." 

Even  in  the  Old  Testament,  therefore,  God  in  His 
active  relation  to  man  was  conceived  in  terms  of 
"  spirit."  The  revelation  "  God  is  Spirit,"  with  all 
its  Implications,  was  still  In  the  future.  But  already 
a  discovery  or  revelation    (the  tv.o  words  describe  the 

1  To  realise  the  change  it  is  sufficient  to  compare  Lev.  xi.  44  with  1  I'ct.  i.  15, 
ifi,  where  the  same  precept  evidently  involves  difTcrent  conditions  of  fiiltilment 
on  the  two  occasions.     Cf.  aUo  Ps.  Ixxxvi.  2. 

2  Tl'Tt  the  ot'irr  conception  h.is  not  disappeared  from  the  New  Testament  is 
teen,  for  example,  in  i   Cor.  vii.   14,  where  it  forms  the  basis  of  PauTs  argiiinrnt. 


I20  THE  SriRir  IV 

same  thing  looked  at  from  opposite  ends)  had  been 
made  that  Cuxi  reached  the  minds  and  wills  of  men 
throiio;h  His  "Spirit."  This  discovery  was  to  prove 
of  momentous  importance  in  the  history  of  religion. 
It  opened  the  way  for  the  development  of  religion  on 
a  new  plane,  for  all  that  is  properly  described  as 
"spiritual  religion";  in  other  words,  for  a  religion 
which  involves  and  expresses  reciprocal  intercourse  and 
fellowship  between  God  who  is  Spirit  and  the  spirit  of 
man  —  one  in  which  law  and  ritual,  authority  and  ob- 
servance, fall  into  a  subordinate  and  ancillary  position, 
as  valuable  but  not  indispensable  —  one  which  can  be 
universal  because  it  postulates  no  other  condition  than 
the  activity  of  the  Spirit,  "  the  ultimate  expression  of 
the  unity  and  communion  of  God  and  man."  ^  The 
men  who  first  spoke  of  "  the  Spirit  of  God  "  were 
unconsciously  preparing  for  the  revelation  that  "  God 
is  Spirit,"  and  that  religion  in  its  highest  form  is  the 
cultivation  of  the  reciprocal  bond  between  God  as 
Spirit  and  man  made  a  living  spirit  by  the  Spirit  of 
God,  even  as  redemption  is  the  restoration  of  that  bond 
suspended  or  destroyed  by  sin. 

But  before  Pentecost  "  the  Spirit  was  not  yet,  be- 
cause Jesus  was  not  yet  glorified."  So  did  one,  writing 
after  fifty  years'  experience  of  the  Spirit's  influence 
within  the  Church,  express  the  immeasurable  difference 
between  its  power  and  its  character  as  apprehended 
before  and  after  Pentecost.  After  Pentecost  the  effec- 
tive presence  of  the  Spirit  within  and  among  men  had 
become  so  indubitable,  so  revolutionary,  and  so  central 
to  religious  experience,  that,  by  comparison  with  what 
went  before,  it  was  as  though  the  Spirit  had  then  come 
into  being.  Of  course  the  writer  of  the  Fourth  Gospel 
neither  meant  nor  expected  that  his  statement  would 
be  taken  literally.  It  was  not  likely  that  he  would 
deny  the  existence  of  the  Spirit,  even  under  the  earlier 
dispensation,  or  its  influence  in  former  generations  on 

1  Pringle-Pattison,   Idea   of   God,   p.   410. 


IV     WHAT  HAPPENED  AT  PENTECOST    121 

certain  persons  and  in  certain  directions.  Neither  were 
any  of  his  fellow-disciples,  who  had  been  nourished  on 
the  Hebrew  Scriptures,  in  ignorance  on  the  subject. 
Just  as  the  mind  of  Christ  in  His  relation  to  the  world 
of  men  and  things  had  been  there  described  as  His 
"  Wisdom,"  so  His  Will  in  effective  contact  with  men 
had  been  described  as  His  Spirit.  It  was  not  in  the 
Spirit  that  any  change  had  taken  place,  but  in  men, 
who  had  become  fully  receptive  of  the  Spirit  through 
the  experiences  that  culminated  in,  and  those  that 
started  from,  the  Upper  Room. 

The  Upper  Room 

The  Persons. —  The  gift  of  the  Spirit  under  the  new 
conditions  came  first  to  a  company  of  men  and  women, 
some  hundred  and  twenty  in  all,  numerous  enough  to 
include  many  widely  divergent  types  of  character  and 
experience.  I'he  Apostles  (their  number  restored  to 
twelve)  were  apparently  all  present,  though  the  narra- 
tive does  not  call  attention  to  the  fact,  and  still  less 
gives  any  ground  for  supposing  that  the  gift  was 
bestowed  on  them  alone.  Wliat  had  brought  this 
company  together,  what  was  holding  them  together, 
was  a  common  attitude  of  mind  and  will  to  Him  who 
had  been  known  as  Jesus  of  Nazareth.  This  was  an 
attitude  of  the  whole  personality;  that  is  to  say,  it 
involved  not  only  the  feelings  —  admiration,  affection, 
sorrow  at  His  removal,  wistful  longing  for  His  return 
—  but  also  the  intellect,  in  the  recognition  of  Him  as 
the  Messiah,  the  One  in  whom  the  age-long  expecta- 
tion of  Israel  was  at  last  realised.  And  it  was  an 
attitude  involving  not  feeling  and  intellect  alone,  but 
also  will.  In  Jesus  they  had  yielded  to  the  authority 
of  a  unique  personality,  a  character  wholly  inspired 
by  love.  Through  Him  and  His  fellowship  they  had 
discovered  Ciod  as  a  supreme  force  of  love  and  right- 
eousness that  really  counted  in  their  lives.  And  though 
they  were  not  yet  able  to  construe  the  implications  of 


122  THE  SPIRIT  IV 

their  subinissicMi  tt)  Jesus  and  to  God  in  Iliin  —  any 
more  than  they  were  able  to  express  the  total  im- 
pression He  had  made  upon  their  minds  in  proposi- 
tions regarding  Him  —  they  had  accepted  His  yoke; 
they  were,  as  in  the  Acts  they  are  frequently  called, 
His  "  disciples."  Their  confidence  in  Him  as  the 
Messiah  had  been  restored  by  the  Resurrection.  They 
had  not  yet  perhaps  been  led  to  give  to  Him  "  the 
name  that  is  above  every  name,"  the  name  of  "  Lord." 
But  all  the  motives  and  dispositions  for  so  "  sanctify- 
ing Christ  as  Lord  "  were  already  present,  except  the 
experience  of  His  gift  of  the  Spirit. 

And  for  that  they  were  waiting.  It  was  *'  the 
promise  of  the  Father."  And  they  believed  that  the 
fulfilment  was  imminent.  Their  recognition  of  Jesus 
as  the  Messiah,  their  conviction  that  the  Messianic  Age 
had  begun,  or  was  just  about  to  begin,  would  quicken 
the  hope  that  the  promise  which  went  back  to  Joel 
would  now  be  fulfilled,  and  that  God  would  "  pour 
forth  of  Llis  Spirit  upon  all  flesh."  It  was  to  the 
disciples  of  Jesus  taking  up  this  attitude  to  Him,  and 
gathered  together  in  one  place,  that  the  Spirit  in  the 
first  instance  came. 

The  Event. —  As  they  waited  the  Spirit  "came." 
There  were  elements  of  emotional  tension  and  strained 
expectation,  as  well  as  elements  of  assured  faith  and 
joyful  thankfulness,  in  the  psychological  situation. 
And  it  would  be  small  wonder  if  all  of  these  have  con- 
tributed to  the  account  which  was  afterwards  given  of 
the  events  of  Pentecost.  Our  interpretation  of  the 
narrative  must  take  account  of  modern  research  in  re- 
spect of  what  was  physically  or  psychologically  abnor- 
mal. It  takes  but  little  heightening  of  well-authenti- 
cated psychological  phenomena  to  account  for  the  im- 
pressions, whether  of  hearing  or  seeing.^  And  the 
things  heard  and  seen,  the  wind  and  the  flame,  were,  it 
is   not   unimportant   to   notice,   phenomena   that  were 

1  Cf.  William  James,   Varieties  of  Religious  Experience,  p.   478. 


IV     WHAT  HAPPENED  AT  PENTECOST    123 

traditionally  associated  with  the  Spirit.^  They  were 
therefore  the  kind  of  thing  which  people  profoundly 
convinced  of  the  Spirit's  coming  would  be  likely  to  feel 
and  see,  or  think  they  felt  and  saw.  So  that  whether 
we  think  of  this  company  of  believers  in  Jesus  as 
Messiah,  intensely  pre-occupied  with  the  thought  of 
His  function  and  His  promise,  exalted  by  a  high  emo- 
tional tension,  and  then  "  receiving  the  Spirit,"  or 
whether  we  think  of  one  of  them  who  had  shared  with 
the  rest  in  the  wonderful  "  baptism,"  afterwards  de- 
scribing what  happened,  it  is  not  difficult  to  understand 
how  the  hearing  of  wind  and  the  seeing  of  flame  came 
to  be  the  form  in  which  the  central  fact  was  expressed. 

The  other  external  phenomenon,  which  is  specially 
emphasised  in  the  account  of  Pentecost,  is  the  glossola- 
lia  or  "  speaking  with  tongues."  This  was  reproduced 
on  other  occasions  of  the  "  descent  "  of  the  Spirit,  and 
was  reckoned  as  one  of  the  charismata  or  normal  mani- 
festations of  the  Spirit's  presence.  It  appears  to  have 
been  widespread  in  the  Church,  and  persisted  certainly 
for  twenty  years,  and  probably  for  much  longer  in  cer- 
tain areas. 

Here  also  the  narrative  in  the  Acts  bears  marks  of 
heightening  due  to  emotional  excitation,  and  possibly 
to  traditional  association.  There  can  be  little  doubt, 
however,  that  the  glossolalia  of  Pentecost  did  not  differ 
in  character  from  that  which  was  afterwards  a  familiar 
feature  in  the  worship  of  the  Church  at  Corinth.  That 
is  to  say,  so  far  from  it  being  speech  intelligible  to 
those  who  spoke  a  different  language  from  the  speaker, 
it  was  speech  or  utterance  which  was  intelligible  to  no 
one.  "  lie  that  speaketh  in  a  tongue  edifieth  himself," 
but  if  he  is  to  edify  others,  he  must  either  interpret 
for  himself  or  find  an  interpreter  (i  Cor.  xii.  2-13). 
So  it  was  in  Corinth  twenty  years  later;  and  we  may 
be  sure  it  was  not  otherwise  at  Jerusalem  on  the  day  of 

1  AccoffJinR  to  Justin   M,irtyr  .irul   ;iI'-o   the   Gospel   of   tlic   Kbiunites,   the   Spirit 
appcarcfl  at  the   Haptifim  of  Jesus  in    the   form  of  fire.     Cf.  also   Ps.   civ.  4. 


124  Till'.  SPIRIT  TV 

Pentecost.  There  it  is  important  to  observe  the  dif- 
ferent witness  borne  by  different  sections  of  the  crowd. 
Some,  possibly  those  on  the  outskirts,  or  possibly  those 
who  had  no  religious  interest  in  the  scene,  were  content 
with  the  explanation,  "  these  are  filled  with  sweet 
wine."  To  their  ears  the  utterances  were  incoherent, 
just  as  St.  Paul  assumed  that  the  "  tongues  "  at  Corinth 
would  be:  "  If  outsiders  or  unbelievers  come  in,  will 
they  not  say  you  are  insane  ?  "  ( i  Cor.  xi.  23 ) .  Others 
again,  possibly  those  who  stood  nearer,  or  possibly 
those  who  were  less  "  outsiders  "  in  a  religious  sense, 
were  deeply  impressed,  and  are  reported  to  have  said, 
representative  though  they  were  of  many  nationalities, 
"  We  do  hear  them  speak  in  our  tongues  the  wonder- 
ful works  of  God."  The  crowd  was  not,  however,  so 
heterogeneous  as  is  suggested  by  the  list  of  nationali- 
ties. It  was  made  up  for  the  most  part,  if  not  wholly, 
of  "  Jews  and  proselytes,"  the  racially  miscellaneous 
yet  religiously  homogeneous  crowd  brought  together 
in  Jerusalem  by  the  attraction  of  a  religious  festival  of 
the  Jews.  What  they  heard  need  not  have  been  co- 
herent or  even  intelligible  speech,  but  such  utterances 
as  quickened  in  their  minds  a  sympathetic  response. 
Their  own  stored-up  recollections  of  the  "  wonderful 
works  of  God  "  were  set  loose  by  the  ecstatic,  though 
it  may  have  been  unintelligible,  utterances  of  men  with 
whom  they  were  to  some  extent  en  rapport.^ 

The  situation  may  be  illustrated  by  something  which 
occurred  at  Westminster  just  before  the  war.  There 
was  then  held  a  worldwide  conference  of  the  Salvation 
Army,  at  which  were  present  representatives  of  nations 
even  more  numerous  and  more  heterogeneous  than 
those  tabulated  in  Acts  ii.  A  report  of  one  of  the 
meetings  contains  the  following  striking  sentence: 
"  Each  time  the  theme  (the  saving  love  of  God  in 
Christ)   was  touched  upon,  it  brought  forth  from  the 

1  The  expression  given  to  the  experience,  and  possibly  the  psychological 
character  of  the  experience  itself,  may  find  illustration  in  John  iv.  29,  "  Come 
gee   a   man    that   told   me   all   things   that   ever   I    did." 


IV     WHAT  HAPPENED  AT  PENTECOST    125 

pent-up  feelings  of  the  vast  assembly  a  sort  of  half- 
sigh  of  appreciation.  Yet  many  in  the  audience  knew 
no  English,  but  they  felt  that  the  one  great  truth  to 
them  was  being  announced  at  this  particular  moment. 
Indians,  Chinese,  Canadians,  Peruvians,  Swedes,  all  of 
them  gave  the  deep  emotional  response."  It  would 
not  be  difficult  to  believe  that  when  the  speaker  on 
that  occasion  had  finished,  representatives  of  these 
various  races  would  be  found  saying,  "  We  heard  him 
speaking  in  our  tongue  the  mighty  works  of  God."  ^ 

Ecstatic  utterance,  requiring,  but  on  the  occasion  of 
Pentecost  lacking,  interpretation  to  make  it  compre- 
hensible to  the  hearers,  but  utterance  which  at  the  same 
time  quickened  in  those  who  had  some  religious  feeling 
in  common  with  the  speakers  a  sympathetic  response, 
an  excitation  of  religious  emotion  and  insight  —  such 
appears  to  have  been  the  phenomenon  of  glossolalia  as 
manifested  at  Pentecost  and  after. ^ 

Subsequent  chapters  of  the  Acts  record  cases  both  of 
individuals  and  of  groups  in  which  the  taking  up  of  the 
same  faith-attitude  to  Jesus  (expressed  by  calling  upon 
Him  as  "  Lord  ")  was  followed  by  a  similar  reception 
of  the  Spirit.  In  one  instance  (which  may  possibly 
embody  another  tradition  of  the  initial  experience  of 
Pentecost)  we  find  allusion  to  accompanying  phenom- 
ena in  the  physical  order.  "  The  place  was  shaken 
where  they  were  assembled  together"  (Acts  iv.  31). 
Similarly  there  is  more  than  one  case  where  we  are 
told  that  the  reception  of  the  Holy  Spirit  was  followed 
by  the  gift  of  glossolalia  (Acts  x.  44-48,  xix.  6)  ;  but 
had  it  not  been  for  the  long  discussion  of  the  subject 
in  I  Corinthians  we  should  not  have  known  how  wide 
and  how  enduring  was  the  experience.  But  meanwhile 
other  "  charisms  "  had  begun  to  manifest  themselves, 
for  which  there  was  no  opportunity  in  the  Upper  Room 
— "  gifts  of  healings,"  "  working  of  miracles,"  as  well 

1  Church  Times,  June  26,   1914. 

2  Sec  I'.artlct,  Apostolic  Age,  pp.    13,   14;  also  Comin.  an  Acts  of  the  Apostltt, 
p.  384- 


126  Till'.  SPIRIT  IV 

as  "  prophecy  "  and  "  disccrnlnjr  of  spirits  "  {e.g.  i 
Cor.  xii.  9).  The  striking  thinji;  about  the  allusions 
to  these  gifts  is  the  way  in  which  they  are  taken  for 
granted  as  phenomena  with  which  every  one  was  fa- 
miliar. They  were  valued  not  as  evidence,  say,  of  the 
truth  of  the  Gospel,  but  for  the  contribution  they  made 
to  the  common  life  of  the  community.  No  appeal  is 
made  to  such  manifestations  as  evidence  of  anything 
else  than  the  effective  presence  of  the  Holy  Spirit.  The 
nearest  approach  to  an  argument  based  upon  the  pos- 
session of  such  powers  is  found  in  Paul's  claim  to  be 
recognised  as  an  Apostle  on  the  ground  that  he  showed 
"  the  signs  of  an  Apostle,"  "  by  signs  and  wonders  and 
mighty  works"  (2  Cor.  xii.  12).  "Miracles"  were 
commoner  in  those  days,  and  less  significant,  than  many 
have  supposed. 

This  comparatively  subordinate  position  assigned 
to  "  miracles  "  in  the  defence  or  presentation  of  the 
Gospel  Is  very  remarkable.  We  may  see  not  only 
a  singular  correspondence  between  the  attitude  and 
method  of  the  primitive  Church  and  those  adopted 
by  our  Lord  Himself,  we  see  also  a  clear  indication 
that  it  is  not  in  phenomena  of  this  class  that  we  are 
to  find  the  really  significant  results  of  the  Spirit's  work- 
ing. And  there  is  a  further  indication  of  their  minor 
importance  in  the  fact  that  St.  Paul  foresaw  regarding 
"  prophecies  "  that  they  should  "  fail,"  and  "  tongues  " 
that  they  should  "  cease."  Neither  does  the  Apostle 
appear  to  have  been  disturbed  by  the  anticipation. 
But  nothing  that  was  transitory  can  give  the  true  dif- 
ferentiation of  what  happened  at  Pentecost.  We  have 
to  look  for  something  that  was  lasting  and  revolution- 
ary, something  that  underlies  and  accounts  for  the  ex- 
perience along  its  whole  length.  We  may  well  be 
guided  by  the  criterion  employed  by  St.  Paul.  The 
Apostle  never  displayed  his  spiritual  insight  more  con- 
spicuously than  in  his  analysis  of  the  group  of  "  char- 
isms  "  or  "  spiritual  gifts  "  which  were  in  fact  forms 


IV     WHAT  HAPPENED  AT  PENTECOST    127 

of  the  Spirit's  action  (i  Cor.  xii.-xiv. ).  He  arranges 
them  in  a  definite  scale  of  comparative  value.  There 
are  among  them  good,  better,  and  best.  The  best  of 
all  is  love,  with  its  correlates  (which  indeed  it  includes) 
Faith  and  Hope.  And  the  criterion  by  which  its  su- 
premacy is  primarily  confirmed  is  its  permanence.  It 
"  abides."  Prophecies,  tongues,  even  knowledge,  fail 
or  disappear.  "  Love  never  faileth."  The  same  cri- 
terion of  comparative  value  is  to  be  applied  to  the 
whole  range  of  phenomena  connected  with  Pentecost. 

Some  have  sought  to  explain  the  marvellous  features 
in  the  narrative  of  Acts  ii.  as  due  to  mythical  accretion. 
But  this  is  not  necessary,  nor  even  probable.  Such 
accretion  may  take  place  around  a  person  or  movement 
the  circumstances  of  whose  initial  appearance  have  been 
obscure  or  unimpressive.  In  such  a  case  an  internal 
experience  or  impression  of  a  striking  kind  has  been 
the  first  thing  to  be  distinguished.  And  "  mythical 
accretion  "  is  due  to  the  attempt  to  objectivise  it,  to 
give  the  experience  a  concrete  form  adequate  to  the 
impression.  To  this  we  have  a  parallel  in  the  growth 
of  the  "  legend  "  of  St.  Francis.  But  here  we  are  pre- 
sented with  the  converse  process.  When  the  initial 
impulse  has  been  externally  startling  in  its  character 
and  immediate  in  some  of  the  results,  the  tendency  of 
an  approximately  contemporary  account  is  to  enhance 
the  attendant  circumstances,  but  for  subsequent  reflec- 
tion, penetrating  through  the  circumstances  to  the  real 
phenomenon,  to  reduce  the  emphasis  on  the  externally 
marvellous  and  concentrate  on  the  essential  facts. 

It  is  this  latter  process  of  which  we  see  evidence 
when  we  compare  successive  stages  in  the  record  of 
the  Spirit's  influence  in  the  primitive  community.  In 
the  first  stage  attention  is  concentrated  on  the  marvel- 
lous accompaniments  which  attended  the  original  out- 
pouring of  the  Spirit,  but  were  not,  so  far  as  we  are 
told,    repeated.      A   vivid   description   is  given   of  ex- 


128  THE  SPIRIT  IV 

teriKil  phenomena  eulniinatin^  in  tlie  disciples  "  speak- 
ing with  other  tongues,  as  the  Spirit  gave  them  utter- 
ance," and  the  consequent  amazement  on  the  part  of 
the  bystanders.  In  the  second  stage  the  phenomena 
belonging  to  the  physical  order  no  longer  appear.  The 
Spirit  comes  upon  men,  but  no  reference  is  found  to 
any  "  rushing  mighty  wind,"  or  to  the  appearance  of 
"  tongues  as  of  Hre."  The  glossolalia  or  "  speaking 
with  tongues  "  continues,  but  as  a  manifestation  which 
requires  to  be  regulated.  On  the  other  hand,  it  is  now 
found  to  be  accompanied  by  a  group  of  exceptional 
manifestations  also  belonging  to  the  psychological 
order,  such  as  gifts  of  healing,  prophecy,  and  adminis- 
tration. In  the  third  stage,  while  the  physical  phe- 
nomena continue  to  be  absent,  the  importance  of  the 
psychologically  abnormal  is  markedly  diminished;  they 
tend  to  die  out,  because  the  ethical  consequences  of  the 
Spirit's  presence  are  now  clearly  observed  and  esti- 
mated at  their  superior  value.  First  glossolalia,  and 
afterwards  prophecy,  falls  Into  discredit.  The  ethical 
results  assert  their  supremacy. 

This  is  not  a  process  of  "  mythical  accretion,"  but 
of  progressive  clarification,  through  the  application  of 
an  ethical  criterion.'  And  the  way  in  which  the  record 
in  the  Acts  preserves  the  features  that  marked  the 
earliest  stage  is  a  point  In  favour  of  Its  historical  char- 
acter, Luke  reproduced  the  story  as  he  got  It  from 
some  one  who  may  have  be-en  In  the  company,  or  pres- 
ent at  the  subsequent  scene,'  regardless  of  the  fact  that 

1  A  good  parallel  to  the  process  suggested  in  the  text  (which  might  be  de- 
scribed as  "  decretion  "  of  mythical  material)  is  furnished  by  a  comparison  be- 
tween the  three  narratives  of  St.  Paul's  conversion  which  we  find  in  Acts  (ix. 
1-19;  xxii.  6-16;  xxvi.  13-20),  to  which  may  be  added  as  representing  a  further 
stage,  Gal.  i.  :s-i6.  In  this  series  the  first  is  plainly  cliaracterised  by  special 
emphasis  on  the  marvellous.  The  details  are  elaborated  with  the  obvious  desire 
to  enhance  the  certainty  of  the  wonder  by  dwelling  on  tlie  attendant  circum- 
stances. The  later  accounts  differ  in  conse<|uence  of  a  shifting  of  the  emphasis 
on  to  that  internal  experience  to  which  the  speaker  could  testify.  And  the  lat- 
est, from  the  pen  of  the  subject  of  the  experience  himself,  touches  the  heart  of 
the  matter,  and  that  only  ("  It  i)Ieased  God  to  reveal  his  Son  in  me  ").  The 
procprrs  becomes  even  more  striking  (and  more  intelligible)  if,  according  to 
Professor  Torrey's  theory,  the  series  represents  three  different  authorities  — 
(1)  an  Aramaic  source,  (2)  Luke,  (3)   Paul. 


IV     WHAT  HAPPENED  AT  PENTECOST    129 

the  coming  of  the  Spirit  was  no  longer  evidenced  by 
the  same  physical  phenomena.  He  laid  himself  open 
to  the  challenge:  How  do  we  know  that  the  Spirit 
really  comes  now,  seeing  that  these  things  do  not  hap- 
pen now?  He  trusted  the  consciousness  of  the  Church 
to  dismiss  such  a  challenge  with  an  appeal  to  religious 
and  ethical  experience. 

If,  however,  neither  any  nor  all  of  the  physical  or 
psychological  phenomena  which  accompanied  or  fol- 
lowed the  descent  of  the  Spirit  provide  a  sufficient  an- 
swer to  our  question,  and  if,  as  will  be  generally  agreed, 
we  cannot  be  content  to  say  "  The  Holy  Spirit  came," 
what  was  it  that  happened?  Many  have  been  content 
to  answer,  "  The  Church."  Whereas  some  have  re- 
garded the  Church  as  "  founded  "  on  that  day,  others, 
holding  it  to  have  been  founded  by  the  Master  in  the 
Galilean  days,  would  see  the  Church  coming  to  self- 
consciousness  and  taking  shape  before  the  eyes  of  men 
on  and  immediately  after  Pentecost.  There  is  no 
doubt  a  true  fact  lying  behind  this  answer;  but  while 
it  is  certainly  not  an  exhaustive  account  of  what  hap- 
pened at  Pentecost,  it  is  doubtful  whether,  even  so 
far  as  it  goes,  it  is  a  satisfactory  one. 

Much  depends  upon  the  significance  which  we  attach 
to  the  word  "  Church."  If  we  allow  our  thought  to  be 
guided  by  anything  bearing  the  name  which  has  come 
under  our  own  observation,  or  by  anything  that  is 
described  for  us  subsequent  to  the  first  weeks,  \we  are 
in  danger  of  going  far  astray.  For  one  thing,  the 
narrati\-e  in  Acts  (chapters  ii.-iv.)  is  strangely  silent  as 
to  any  such  phenomenon  appearing  as  an  immediate 
result  of  Pentecost.  St.  Luke,  or  more  probably  the 
source  which  he  is  using,  gives  no  hint  of  anything  which 
can  be  said  to  characterise  the  Church  as  an  externally 
visible  and  organised  institution.  And  he  rather 
markedly  refrains  from  using  the  word  "  Church  " 
itself.     E\-cn  in  v.  11,  where  it  occurs  for  the  first  time. 


I30  THE  SPIRIT  iv 

he  may  he  iislnp;  it,  as  Dr.  Hort  suggests,  "  by  anticipa- 
tion." '  And  in  the  preceding  chapter  he  rings  the 
changes  on  descriptive  phrases,  such  as  "  they  that  be- 
lieved," "  the  brethren,"  and  the  Hke.  Indeed,  it  is 
difficult  not  to  feel  that  he  (or  his  source)  is  actually 
at  a  loss  for  a  word  to  describe  the  new  community: 
"  the  Lord  added  .  .  .  thereunto."  Later  copyists, 
recognising  the  ambiguity,  substituted  the  word 
"  Church  "  for  Luke's  ambiguous  phrase,  and  so  we 
find  "  added  to  the  Church  "  (Acts  ii.  47)  in  our  A.V. 

Further,  we  must  note  the  fact  that  in  these  chapters 
the  increasing  body  of  believers,  though  positively  dis- 
tinguished from  their  surroundings  by  their  common 
faith-attitude  to  Jesus  as  Messiah,  are  not  yet  nega- 
tively delimited  by  separation  from  the  Jewish  Church. 
The  Temple  is  still  for  them  the  natural  place  for 
meeting  and  for  worship:  "  day  after  day  they  resorted 
thither,"  and  "  they  were  looked  on  with  favour  by 
all  the  people."  Moreover,  the  speech  of  St.  Peter  in 
Solomon's  Portico  (Acts  iii.)  is  remarkable  for  its  tone 
of  mildness  and  consideration  towards  the  Jews:  "  I 
know,  however,  that  you  acted  through  ignorance,  like 
your  rulers."  It  looks  as  though  down  to  the  appoint- 
ment of  the  Seven  —  the  first  definite  step  in  organisa- 
tion —  the  new  community  was  not  conscious  of  essen- 
tial distinctness  from  the  Church  of  the  Jews;  and  even 
as  though  down  to  the  subsequent  martyrdom  of  Ste- 
phen it  was  not  beyond  hope  that  the  people  as  a  whole 
might  be  swept  into  the  movement.^ 

It  is  sometimes  suggested  that,  either  during  His 
ministry  or  during  the  forty  days  following  the  resur- 
rection, Christ  had  given  to  His  disciples,  or  to  the 
Apostles,  instructions  for  the  organisation  and  adminis- 
tration of  such  an  institution  as  the  Church,  and  that 

1  Christian  Ecclesia,   p.   49. 

2  St.  Paul's  remarkable  phrase  in  Gal.  i.  20,  "  the  churches  of  Judaea  which 
were  in  Christ,"  appears  to  distinguish  the  "  Christian  "  Churches  there  from 
the  Jewish  (cf.  i  Thess.  ii.  4);  and,  if  so,  it  is  an  echo,  perhaps  the  latest, 
of  this  consciousness  of  sharing  a  common  status  with  the  Jewish  Church;  it 
would  also  be  a  point  in   favour  of  an   early  date  for  the  Galatian   Epistle. 


IV     WHAT  HAPPENED  AT  PENTECOST   131 

these  instructions  were  carried  out  immediately  after 
the  coming  of  the  Spirit.  But  apart  from  the  serious 
difficulty  arising  from  the  fact  that  the  record  is  silent 
as  to  any  such  instructions,  the  suggestion  is  untenable 
because  inconsistent  with  that  expectation  concerning 
the  future  which  was  dominant  in  the  Christian  con- 
sciousness of  these  first  weeks.  "  The  first  disciples 
believed  that  they  had  their  Master's  authority  for 
expecting  the  end  of  the  existing  world  order  in  their 
own  lifetime.  Whether  they  understood  Him  or  not, 
clearly  they  could  not  have  held  this  opinion  if  they  had 
received  instructions  for  the  constitution  of  a  church."  ^ 

Such  considerations  —  the  absence  of  recorded  in- 
struction, the  incompatibility  with  the  dominant  out- 
look on  the  future,  the  absence  of  evidence  in  the  open- 
ing chapters  of  the  Acts,  and  the  evidence  pointing  to 
a  community  as  yet  imperfectly  differentiated  from  the 
Jewish  Church  —  seem  to  preclude  the  possibility  that 
there  was,  at  least  during  the  first  weeks,  anything  to 
which  we  should  give  the  name  of  "  Church,"  an  Insti- 
tution present  to  the  eyes  of  men  as  a  distinct  and 
organised  society.  How,  then,  are  we  to  describe  the 
common  consciousness  of  the  disciples  during  the 
interval? 

There  is,  moreover,  an  interval  of  another  order 
which  cannot  but  be  felt.  It  is  the  psychological  gap 
between  the  action  of  the  Spirit  upon  the  spirits  of  the 
Apostles  and  any  external  result  of  man's  reaction  to 
the  Spirit's  influence.  Modern  psychology  would  rule 
out  categorical  instruction  by  the  Spirit;  even  the 
quickening  of  memory  as  to  earlier  instructions  is  pre- 
cluded by  what  has  just  been  said.  Some  intermediate 
result  of  the  Spirit's  influence  seems  to  be  called  for,  as 
well  as  something  to  fill  the  interval  of  time,  some  form 
of  consciousness  which  on  the  one  hand  had  been  quick- 
ened by  the  Spirit,  and  on  the  other  led  to  the  organisa- 
tion of  the  Church. 

1  Dean  Inge  in  llic  Quarterly  Review,   1918,  i>.  33. 


132  THE  SPIRIT  IV 

The  conclusion  seems  to  be  tliat  neither  in  the  mani- 
festation of  supernatural  phenomena,  nor  in  those 
"  gifts  "  and  "  powers  "  which  were  subsequently  traced 
to  the  Spirit's  presence,  nor  yet  in  "  the  foundation  of 
the  Church  "  do  we  find  an  explanation  which  is  at 
once  adequate  and  penetrating  of  what  happened  at 
Pentecost. 

Thf  New  Thing:  Emergence  of  the  Fellowship 

All  t}'pes  of  explanation  emphasise  the  descent  of 
the  Spirit  as  the  significant  happening  at  Pentecost,  but 
none  of  them  explore  its  dynamic  meaning.  Whereas 
for  one  class  of  explanation  this  coming  of  the  Spirit 
remained  the  unexplored  fact  which  the  supernatural 
phenomena  serve  to  attest,  for  the  other  it  remained 
the  unexplored  starting-point  for  the  development  of 
an  organisation.  The  question  still  remains.  What  was 
the  real,  primary,  and  enduring  result  of  the  Spirit's 
coming?  And  the  answer  here  suggested  is  that  the 
primary  result  which  was  permanent,  and  that  which 
filled  the  interval,  was  what  was  recognised  and  de- 
scribed as  the  "  Fellowship  "  {y  Kou'cma)  ;  that  the 
symbol  of  the  Fellowship  (to  which  the  highest  im- 
portance was  attached)  was  "the  Loaf"  (o  apTo<i)  ; 
that  its  religious  efficacy  was  found  in  "  intuition  of 
truth"  (tVt'yvwo-t?) ,  and  that  its  demonstration  to  the 
world,  which  w  as  found  in  the  first  instance  in  "  mighty 
works,"  was  ultimately  and  permanently  discovered  in 
what  St.  Paul  called  "  the  fruit  of  the  Spirit." 

Among  the  many  meanings  or  shades  of  meaning 
which  may  legitimately  be  assigned  to  Koinonia,  it 
would  seem  as  though  the  primary  and  most  important 
one  has  been  seriously  overlooked.  There  is  reason 
to  think  that  in  the  Acts  and  the  Epistles  the  word 
not  infrequently  bears  an  absolute  significance  which 
corresponds  to  a  specific  element  in  the  primary  con- 
sciousness of  the  nascent  Church.  The  earliest  instance 
of  its  use  is  found  in  connection  with  the  narrative  of 


IV     WHAT  HAPPENED  AT  PENTECOST    133 

Pentecost,  In  Acts  11.  42,  as  now  read  by  the  critical 
editions:  "They  were  steadfastly  adhering  to  the 
teaching  of  the  Apostles  and  to  the  fellowship,  to  the 
breaking  of  bread  and  the  prayers."  The  old  render- 
ing following  the  Received  Text  ran :  "  continued 
steadfastly  in  the  apostles'  doctrine  and  fellowship": 
and  our  Revisers  have  not  thought  it  necessary  to 
alter  the  translation.  But  most,  if  not  all,  modern 
commentators  recognise  that  the  introduction  in  the 
critical  texts  of  the  article  before  the  word  Kotvwvia 
justifies,  if  indeed  it  does  not  require,  the  recognition 
of  the  phrase  into  an  Independent  one.  It  is  not  the 
teaching  and  felloivship  of  the  Apostles  to  zvhich  the 
community  adhered,  but  the  teaching  of  the  Apostles 
and  the  Felloivship.  It  was  a  new  name  for  a  new 
thing,  community  of  spirit  issuing  in  community  of 
life:  ^  that  was  the  primary  result  of  the  coming  of  the 
Spirit, 

Consistent  with  this  view  is  the  emphasis  which 
in  these  opening  chapters  Is  laid  upon  the  fact  of 
"  togetherness,"  where  the  external  coming  together 
and  being  together  so  frequently  referred  to  is  the 
expression  of  that  inward  sense  of  oneness  Indicated 
by  Kolnonla.  The  Intense  reality  with  which  this 
oneness  was  felt  is  Indicated  In  Acts  Iv.  32  :  "  the  mul- 
titude of  those  that  believed  had  but  one  heart  and 
one  soul."  It  was  something  approximating  to  a  cor- 
porate personality  that  had  come  into  being.  The 
persons  of  whom  it  was  made  up  were  conscious  of  a 
"  oneness  "  with  one  another  which  was  spiritual,  and 
anterior  to  any  of  the  more  or  less  external  forms  in 
which  It  proceeded  to  express  Itself. 

The  lirst  indication  of  this  inward  bond  was  seen  in 
their  "togetherness"  ("the  believers  all  kept  to- 
gether") ;  the  next  in  an  eager  readiness  to  treat  the 

1  Cf.  "Inward  I'cllowship  and  its  outward  Manifestation"  (  U.  J.  Knowlinj;)  : 
"  Used  in  connection  witli  the  Cliristian  Society  to  express  the  idea  of  the  fel- 
lowship in  which  it  is  united,  and  the  acts  of  fellowship  in  which  the  fellow^ship 
U  realised"   (J.   Armitage   Robinson). 


134  THE  SPIRIT  IV 

possessions  of  each  as  belonging  to  all:  *'  they  shared 
all  they  had  with  one  another;  they  would  sell  their 
possessions  and  goods  and  distribute  the  proceeds 
among  all,  as  any  one  might  need"  (Acts  iii.  45  ff.; 
cf.  V.  32,  34  ft'.).  To  describe  this  as  "  an  experiment 
in  communism  "  is  seriously  to  misconceive  the  situa- 
tion. The  conduct  described  was  rather  the  spontane- 
ous expression  of  the  spirit  of  fellowship,  in  those  first 
moments  when  it  welled  up  in  each  individual  member 
at  the  touch  of  the  Spirit  of  Christ.  The  attitude  of 
the  individual  towards  the  things  he  had  called  his 
own  Avas  a  measure  of  the  completeness  with  which  he 
had  been  merged  in  the  Koinonia. 

This  is  tiirov/n  into  high  relief  by  the  story  of 
Ananias.  His  offence  was  not  simply  falsehood,  but 
treachery,  treachery  to  the  Koinonia  to  which  he  pro- 
fessed allegiance.  He  had  acted  falsely  to  its  inherent 
character,  and  in  so  doing  he  had  "  cheated  the  Holy 
Spirit."  It  was  a  gross  case  of  failing  to  "  discern  the 
Body,"  i.e.  to  act  loyally  in  accordance  with  its  nature.^ 

Turning  to  St.  Paul  we  find  that  both  the  reality 
and  the  importance  of  this  new  thing  were  clearly 
apprehended  by  him.  And  he  gives  it  the  same  name, 
Koinonia.  He  reminds  the  Corinthians  for  their 
comfort  that  it  is  a  "  faithful  "  God  who  has  called 
them  (with  an  "  effectual  calling")  "  into  the  Fellow- 
ship of  Christ."  ^  And  by  this  he  means  not  the 
"  companionship  "  of  Christ,  but  the  Fellowship  belong- 
ing to  and  named  after  Him.  And  the  same  may 
also  be  described  as  "  the  Fellowship  of  the  Spirit  " 
(Phil.  ii.  i).  The  Spirit  has  called  it  into  being,  and 
by  the  indwelling  of  the  same  Spirit  it  is  sustained. 
"  If  Christ  has  any  appeal,  if  love  carries  any  sanction, 
if  the  Spirit  has  really  created  a  Fellowship,  if  affection 
and  tenderness  are  really  its  atmosphere,"  show  it  in 
word  and  deed.     A  third  case  is  found  in  2  Corinthians 

1  See    my    article    in    Expositor,    VIII.    x.    182. 

2  The   thought    is   tlie   same   as   that    which    finds  very   different   expression   in 
John  XV.   j6:     "  Ye  have  not  chosen  me,  but  I   have  chosen  you." 


IV     WHAT  HAPPENED  AT  PENTECOST    135 

xiii.  13,  where  the  same  idea  appears  in  the  Apostolic 
Benediction — "  the  communion  of  the  Holy  Ghost  be 
with  you  all."  There  Paul  prays  not  for  the  compan- 
ionship of  the  Spirit  with  individual  believers,  but  that 
the  Fellowship  which  has  been  created  by  the  Spirit 
may  continue,  even  as  he  prays  for  the  continuous  mani- 
festation of  the  grace  of  the  Lord  Jesus  and  of  the  love 
of  God.i 

The  power  of  the  Spirit  was  manifested  in  this  way 
first  in  the  experience  of  a  company  of  men  and  women 
who  belonged  to  the  same  race,  and  were  already  united 
together  by  earlier  religious  affinities.  But  it  was 
subsequently  displayed  not  only  in  bringing  into  one 
Fellowship  those  who  belonged  to  non-Jewish  races  and 
religions,  but,  greatest  miracle  of  all,  in  combining 
within  one  such  Divine  Society  Jews  and  Gentiles, 
between  whom  there  had  been  an  impassable  gulf. 
This  was  in  truth  for  St.  Paul  the  supreme  miracle, 
paralleled  only  by  the  miracle  of  Reconciliation  between 
God  and  man,  of  which  indeed  it  was  for  him  an  essen- 
tial part  (Eph.  iii.  9-1 1).  This  was  the  mystery  that 
had  been  concealed  from  previous  generations,  the 
secret  purpose  of  God  now  illumined  by  Christ.  It 
was  "  the  mystery  of  Christ,"  "  the  mystery  of  the 
Gospel"  (Eph.  iii.  4,  vi.  19).  This  indeed  was  the 
specific  element  in  Paul's  teaching  which  he  called  his 
Gospel,  and  which,  as  distinct  from  those  elements  of 
his  preaching  which  reached  him  from  older  disciples, 
he  traced  to  direct  revelation  by  God  to  himself 
(Gal.  i.  12;  Eph.  iii.  3).  The  Gentiles  were  eligible 
for  the  Fellowship,  and  on  the  same  te«rms  as  the  Jews; 
they  were  orVcroj/xa,  i.e.  participators  in  the  life  of  the 
same  Body. 

This    is    the    true    theme    of    the    Epistle    to    the 

1  It  has  been  said  that  "  no  cxcRctical  skill  can  give  us  certainty  as  to  the 
meaning  of  this  phrase."  Hut  one  thing  it  cannot  nu'an,  and  tliat  is  what  in 
all  prohability  it  it  usually  supposed  to  mean  — "  tlie  companionship  of  the  Holy 
fihost."  And  there  i<  at  least  higli  probability  that  all  three  genitives  are  sub- 
jective, and  signify  respectively  the  grace,  the  love,  and  the  fellowship,  of  which 
Father,   Son,  and   Spirit   are  severally   the  source. 


136  TITF,  SPIRIT 


IV 


Fphesians,    which    is    (]iiitc    in:ulcquatc]y   described    as 
"  the  unity  of  the  Church."       The  aui^just  act  of  (7od 
which    Paul    here    celebrates    is    rather    the    unification 
into  one   Boily  of  those  sections  of  humanity  —  Jews 
and  (ientiles  —  which  had  hitherto  been  as  poles  asun- 
der, held  apart  by  prejudice,  misunderstanding,  hostility 
(Eph.   ii.    1 6),   and  even,  as  it  appeared  to  the  Jew, 
by  divine  ordinance    (Col.  ii.    14).     This  removal  of 
"  the  middle  wall  of  partition,"  the  cancelling  of  "  the 
feud  of  the  law"    (Eph.  ii.    15),  the  unification  into 
"  one   new   man  "   of  these   hitherto   antagonistic   ele- 
ments, was  what  filled  the  Apostle's  mind  with  wonder 
and  adoring  praise.     It  was  for  him  a  factor  in  the 
work,  of  Christ  so  vast  in  its  import,  and  so  contribu- 
tory to   the  glory  of  God,   that  to  do  justice   to  his 
thought  we  have  to  set  side  by  side  the  two  phrases : 
"  He  is  our  peace  "    (i.e.   the   source   and  ground  of 
peace  between  us  who  were  previously  alienated)  and 
"  We  have  peace  with  God." 

Another    name     for    the     Koinonia    Is    the    Unity 
(ti'onj?).!     Under  this  name  also  Paul  traces  Its  exist- 
ence to  the  work  of  the  Spirit,  and  urges  the  duty  of 
maintaining  it   (Eph.  iv.  3).     It  Is  the  "  Unity  of  the 
Spirit."      In  Ephesians  Iv.  13  he  indicates  Its  primary 
sources  within  the  human  personality;  It  Is  the  unity 
brought  about  by  faith  and  knowledge  of  the  Son  of 
God.      In  his  eyes  it  Is  a  sacred  thing,  and  he  strives  to 
make  those  to  whom  he  writes  realise  its  sacredness. 
When  he  warns  them  not  to  "  grieve  the  Holy  Spirit  of 
God,"   he  is   really  summing  up   the  various  precepts 
which   he   has  just   laid   down  — "  lie   not  one   to   an- 
other "  "  be  angry  and  sin  not  ";  "  let  your  speech  be 
not  destructive  of  the  moral  coherence  "   (o-aTrpds)  but 
"  unto  upbuilding."     All  these  find  their  sanction  and 
appeal   In    the    sense   of   corporate   unity,    and   In   the 
sacredness  of  its  claim.      Whatever  denies  or  Injures 
that    corporate    unity    offends    the    Spirit    who    has 

1  Cf.  Ignatius,  Phil.  4.  eh  evoiaiv  rov  ai/xaTos  avrov. 


IV     WHAT  HAPPENED  AT  PENTECOST   137 

created,  and  now  maintains,  the  Koinonia  (Eph.  Iv. 
25-30;  cf.  Acts  V.  3).  The  same  principle  Is  further 
illustrated  by  the  appearance  In  the  catalogue  of  "  deeds 
of  the  flesh  "  (Gal.  v.  19,  20)  of  such  things  as  exhibi- 
tions of  rivalry,  sectarianism,  party  spirit  (aipeVeis) . 
Such  sins  against  the  body  corporate  are  treated  as 
equally  heinous  with  those  against  the  individual  body. 

Further  light  is  thrown  upon  the  conception  by  the 
relation  which  St.  Paul  postulates  between  the  Spirit 
and  that  Eove  which  Is  the  connective  tissue  of  the 
new  man.  This  "  love  "  Is  part  of  the  "  fruit  of  the 
Spirit"  (Gal.  V.  2).  And  the  same  thought  underlies 
the  striking  collocation  In  2  Corinthians  vl.  6:  "by 
kindness,  by  the  Holy  Spirit,  by  unaffected  love."  The 
remark  "  See  how  these  Christians  love  one  another  " 
was  not  originally  made  In  irony. 

The    emergence    of   the   consciousness   described   as 
Koinonia,  not  only  at  the  first  in  Jerusalem,  but  else- 
where  and  subsequently  as   successive  new  groups  of 
believers  "  received  the  Spirit,"  points  to  the  fact  that 
the  primary  function  of  that  Spirit  was  the  removal 
of  "  diffinities,"  and  the  bringing  into  existence  of  a 
sacred  Fellowship  in  which  "  there  was  neither  male  nor 
female,  bond  nor  free."     And  this  Fellowship  became 
In  turn  the  organ  of  the  Spirit,  and  so  an  extension  of 
the  Incarnation,  to  which  It  was  only  natural,  ere  many 
years  had  passed,   to  give  the  description  "  Body  of 
Christ."     With  almost  Incredible  boldness  Paul  seems 
in  one  passage    (i    Cor.  xii.   12)    to  Identify  this,  the 
corporate    body    of   believers,    with    Christ     Himself. 
Certainly  he  had  before  his  mind  the  vision  of  a  re- 
deemed humanity  growing  up   into   "  the  measure  of 
the  stature  of  the  fulness  of  Christ";  and  the  vision 
was  no  baseless  dream,  but  rested  on  his  observation 
of  what  had   already  been   accomplished   through   the 
Holy  Spirit  in  creating  the  Koinonia. 

The    word    In    this    specific    sense   would    appear    to 
denote  a  fellowship  which  was  not  merely  a  fellowship 


138  THE  SPIRIT  iv 

of  believers  'niti'r  .«<•,  nor  yet  a  fellowship  of  the  be- 
lievers individually  with  the  Spirit,  but  a  complex  ex- 
perience which  included  both.  It  was  in  relationship 
with  one  another  that  men  continuously  realised  their 
relation  to  Christ  and  to  God  through  Him.  Indeed, 
they  found  in  this  reciprocal  fellowship  the  convincing 
proof  of  their  own  salvation :  "  we  know  that  we  have 
passed  from  death  unto  life,  because  we  love  the 
brethren  "  (  i  John  iii.  14).  The  "  Fellowship  "  was, 
in  fact,  the  sphere  within  which  this  complex  experience 
was  realised,  the  reciprocal  inter-action  of  moral  and 
spiritual  forces  divine  and  human.  And  this  Koinonia, 
called  into  being  by  the  Holy  Spirit,  was  prior  to  the 
organised  Ecclesia :  it  was  related  to  It  as  the  life  to 
the  organisation. 

The  Symbol  of  the  Fellowship:  the  Loaf 

Of  this  Koinonia  the  primitive  community  recognised 
that  it  possessed  a  symbolic  representation,  which 
played  an  important  part  in  the  devotional  life  of 
the  early  Christians.  This  was  the  loaf,  or  "  bread," 
as  it  is  translated  in  our  English  versions.  These 
disciples  of  the  first  days  were  known  by  the  fact  that 
they  adhered  not  only  to  the  teaching  of  the  Apostles 
and  the  Fellowship,  but  also  to  "  the  breaking  of  the 
loaf."  ' 

The  Investigation  of  this  Initial  stage  of  Christian 
worship  has  tended  to  overlook  this  symbolism  of 
the  loaf,  and  the  symbolism  of  Its  breaking  apart 
from,  and  anterior  to,  the  partaking  of  it.  The  com- 
mentators are  probably  mistaken  who  consider  them- 
selves justified  In  reading  back  Into  this  and  similar 
allusions  in  the  Acts  what  they  believe  to  be  St.  Paul's 
Interpretation  of  the  Eucharist.  As  a  synonym  for 
the  Eucharist,  or  for  the  Eucharistic  element  In  the 

1  According  to  the  accepted  critical  texts,  as  well  as  the  Textus  Receptus. 
But  the  Western  text  has  a  very  interesting  variant,  according  to  which  they 
adhered  to  "  the  fellowship  of  the  breaking  of  the  loaf."  Blass  appears  to  think 
that  the  original  form  may  have  been  "  the  fellowship  of  the  loaf." 


IV     WHAT  HAPPENED  AT  PENTECOST    139 

Agape,  "  the  breaking  of  bread "  has  certainly  an 
antiquarian  sound.  And  If  Luke  wrote  with  Paul's 
teaching  before  his  mind,  it  is  all  the  more  necessary 
to  account,  if  possible,  for  the  use  of  a  phrase  which 
emphasises  the  breaking,  and  passes  over  in  silence 
the  partaking,  not  to  speak  of  other  features  of  the 
Eucharist.  It  seems  at  least  equally  probable  that 
in  this,  as  in  other  matters,  the  writer  of  the  Acts  has 
preserved  with  marked  fidelity  the  recollection  of  a 
stage  of  thought  anterior  to  St.  Paul,  and  that  here 
also  the  work  of  the  Apostle  was  to  develop  or  add  to 
the  primitive  conception. 

Paul  himself  does  not  use  the  phrase  "  breaking  of 
bread,"  though  he  describes  the  action  in  the  institution 
of  the  rite.  But  the  usage  in  the  Acts  suggests  that 
there  was  a  time  when  alongside  the  symbolism  of 
partaking,  and  possibly  overshadowing  it,  there  was  a 
symbolism  attaching  to  the  loaf  itself  and  to  the  break- 
ing of  it.  Of  this  we  seem  to  have  the  latest  surviving 
evidence  In  the  Didache,  and  in  the  designation  there 
given  to  the  Eucharlstic  rite  or  to  part  of  It:  "The 
Breaking"  or  "the  thing  for  breaking."  And  the 
prayer  which  is  there  prescribed  In  connection  with 
the  rite  Is  remarkable  no  less  for  what  it  omits  than 
for  what  it  emphasises:  "Concerning  the  Breaking. 
We  thank  Thee,  our  Father,  for  the  life  and  knowledge 
which  Thou  hast  made  known  to  us  through  Jesus  Thy 
servant.  ...  As  this  broken  bread  was  scattered  upon 
the  hills  and  being  gathered  together  became  one,  so 
let  Thy  Church  be  gathered  together  from  the  ends 
of  the  earth  unto  Thy  kingdom."  '  According  to  this 
prayer  the  loaf  of  the  Eucharist  was  the  sacred  symbol 
of  the  unity  Into  which  believers  had  been  kneaded, 
that  corporate  unity  of  common  life,  compact  of  all 
the  individual  lives,  which  was  also  expressed  as  Koln- 
onia.      But  this  was  always  understood  to  be  more  than 

1  The  Paiilicianfi  who  preserved  so  many  primitive  features  of  doctrine  and 
practice  laid  Rreat  stress  on  the  onrncss  of  the  loaf;  see  F.  C.  Conybeare,  Key 
of   Truth,  pp.   xlix,    123,   etc. 


I40  THE  SPIRIT  IV 

the    sum    of    these    personalities.      For    it    was    the 

Koinonia  of  the  Spirit":  it  had  a  life  of  its  own, 
created  and  sustained  hy  I  liiii. 

From  this  we  may  infer  the  significance  which  in  the 
Acts  is  attached  to  "  the  breaking  of  bread."  The 
loaf  represented  the  fact  that  the  new  life  was  held  and 
enjoyed  in  common.  It  was  the  symbol  both  of  the 
Koinonia  and  of  the  "  bread  from  heaven  "  by  which 
it  was  nourished. 

In  this  symbolism  pertaining  to  the  loaf  itself  we 
may  find  the  key  to  the  right  interpretation  of  the 
difficult  passage  in  i  Cor.  x.  i6:  "  The  loaf  which  we 
break,  does  it  not  represent  a  fellowship  of  the  Body  of 
Christ?"  ^  The  loaf  represents  His  corporate  Body, 
the  Church.  And  what  is  the  Body  there  for?  In  the 
first  place,  to  be  broken;  in  the  second  place,  to  be  of- 
fered up.  The  breaking  may  possibly  have  symbolised 
the  spiritual  participation  of  Christ's  followers  in  His 
death,  the  "  death  to  sin  "  of  which  the  Apostle  speaks 
elsewhere,  and  in  His  sufferings,  participation  in  which 
belonged  both  to  the  anticipation  and  to  the  experience 
of  His  Church.  In  any  case  it  would  symbolise 
participation  by  the  individual  member  in  the  common 
(heavenly)  life  of  the  whole. 

The  Body  represented  by  the  loaf  was  there  also  to 
be  "  offered  up."  The  Church  itself  was  the  subject 
of  a  sacrificial  offering  to  God.  It  is  the  proud  con- 
sciousness of  being  the  agent  in  such  an  offering,  and 
in  that  sense  a  "  sacrificing  priest,"  which  rings  through 
Paul's  words  in  Romans  xv.  i6.  He  acts  as  a  priest 
for  the  Gentiles,  when  he  leads  them  in  the  act  of 
worship  which  consists  in  the  offering  up  of  themselves, 
of  the  sacred  Body  of  Christ,  which  has  been  "con- 
secrated by  the  Holy  Spirit."  ^  This  was  their 
*'  spiritual  worship,"  before  whose  intense  moral  real- 

1  The  reasons  supporting  this  translation   will   be    found   in   my   article,   "  The 
Communion    of   the   Body,"    in    the   Expositor   for   August,    19 19. 

2  It  is  to  this  conception   that  we  are  to  trace  all  the  allusions  to  "  sacrifice  " 
in  connection  with  the  Eucharist  down  to  the  end  of  the  second  century. 


IV     WHAT  HAPPENED  AT  PENTECOST    141 

ity    every   other    form    of   sacrifice    withered    into    ir- 
relevance. 

This  again  may  have  been  symbolised  in  the  "  break- 
ing " ;  and  when  the  people  proceeded  to  partake  of 
the  loaf  thus  broken,  they  set  forth  to  themselves  their 
several  dependence  on  the  common  sacred  life  of  the 
Body.  It  was  the  "  Body  of  Christ,"  inhabited  and 
consecrated  by  His  Spirit;  and  they  drew  from  It,  from 
the  Spirit,  and  from  Christ,  whom  it  represented,  the 
nourishment  necessary  for  the  growth  and  strengthen- 
ing of  the  "  new  man." 

The  Fellowship  the  Organ  of  Insight 

The  presence  of  the  Spirit  in  the  Koinonia  was 
attested  by  an  extraordinary  measure  of  what  we  can 
only  call  vitality.  And  the  vitality  manifests  itself  in 
many  ways,  in  the  spheres  of  intellectual  insight,  of 
admiration,  and  of  character. 

The  Fellowship  was  recognised  as  the  organ  of 
spiritual  insight.  In  writing  to  Philemon,  St.  Paul 
prays  that  "your  faith-fellowship  (the  fellowship 
founded  on  your  faith)  may  be  effective  unto  the  recog- 
nition of  every  good  thing  that  is  ours  in  Christ." 
That  is  to  say,  the  Fellowship  is  to  have  its  proper  and 
expected  result  in  the  progressive  discovery  of  spir- 
itual truth.  This  is  the  only  passage  where  such  a 
result  is  traced  expressly  to  the  Koinonia;  but  precisely 
the  same  idea  is  illustrated  by  the  close  connection 
which  for  the  Apostle  exists  between  "  love  "  and 
"  knowledge,"  or  "  intuition."  Writing  to  the  Philip- 
pians  (i.  9),  he  prays  that  their  love  "  may  more  and 
more  abound  in  insight  and  all  manner  of  perception." 
For  the  Ephesians  he  prays  in  like  manner  (lii.  18) 
that,  "  being  rooted  in  love,  they  may  be  able  to  com- 
prehend with  all  God's  people  what  is  the  breadth," 
etc.,  and  for  the  Colossians  that,  "  being  knit  together 
in  love,"  they  may  have  all  the  wealth  of  conviction 
and  insight  into  the  mystery  of  God  (ii.  2).      It  is  in 


142  THE  SPIRI'I'  IV 

the  company  of  God's  people,  "  with  all  saints,"  that 
the  fulness  of  spirtiial  insight  is  attained.  And  the 
Lo\e  "  which  is  the  atmosphere  of  the  Fellowship,  Is 
the  condition,  the  stimulating  medium,  of  spiritual 
knowledge. 

In  Ephesians  iv.  20  ff.  we  find  a  striking  illustration 
of  the  process  as  observed  and  understood  by  the 
Apostle.  He  reminds  these  Epheslan  Christians  that 
they  had  "  learned  Christ,"  had  been  "  taught  Him," 
had  been  "  instructed  in  Him."  What  they  had 
learned,  the  "  truth  as  it  is  in  Jesus,"  was  in  the  first 
place  what  we  should  call  doctrine,  the  possibility  and 
the  necessity  of  "  putting  on  the  new  man  ";  but  also 
morals,  the  details  of  Christian  duty.  And  this  knowl- 
edge, this  instruction,  had  come  to  them  "  in  Christ," 
that  is,  in  that  sphere  of  intensely  realised  faith,  hope, 
and  love,  which  looked  at  from  its  divine  side  was 
"  Christ,"  but  looked  at  from  its  human  side  was  the 
Koinonia.  Instruction  both  on  faith  and  on  life,  with 
the  spiritual  insight  which  made  it  vital,  was  due  to 
reciprocal  action  within  the  Koinonia.  Within  that 
sphere  every  faculty  of  the  Christian  personality  was 
quickened,  and  along  with  others  that  apprehension  of 
ethical  and  spiritual  realities  which  St.  Paul  describes 
as  Epignosis  or  Knowledge. 

This  experience  of  the  Fellowship  as  the  organ  of 
insight  was  that  which  finds  classical  expression  In  the 
promise  regarding  the  Holy  Spirit  which  appears  In  the 
fourth  gospel:  "  he  shall  lead  you  Into  all  truth."  It 
has  long  been  recognised  that  what  is  meant  by 
"  truth  "  here  and  elsewhere  is  not  rightly  represented 
by  any  collection  of  truths  however  complete,  or  even 
by  the  totality  of  relevant  truths.  The  "  truth  "  is 
the  living  reality,  the  eternal  which  lies  beyond  and 
behind  the  changing  phenomena  of  experience.  One 
function  of  the  Spirit  was  to  conduct  men  Into  this 
whole  region  of  reality.  Under  His  Influence  (and 
that  was  supremely  experienced  within  the  Fellowship) 


IV     WHAT  HAPPENED  AT  PENTECOST   143 

they  saw  things  of  time  and  of  eternity,  as  they  are, 
and  saw  them  in  their  right  proportionate  value. 

The  New  Testament  as  a  whole  bears  witness  to 
the  working  of  the  same  vitality  with  similar  results. 
Everywhere  we  Hnd  the  same  paradox  of  independent 
variation  combined  with  conformity  to  a  general  type. 
When  we  compare,  for  example,  the  three  Synoptic 
Gospels,  we  are  almost  baffled  by  the  oscillations  be- 
tween conformity  and  variation.  The  variations  are 
due,  not  so  much  to  the  influence  of  conscious  pre- 
suppositions or  literary  motives,  as  to  the  working  of 
creative  minds  on  plastic  material;  and  yet  they  are 
held  in  check  by  loyalty  to  a  common  type,  or  what 
Plato  would  have  called  l^ea.  We  find  the  same  when 
we  compare  either  the  three  groups  of  Pauline  epistles 
with  one  another,  or  the  work  of  Paul,  Peter,  and  the 
author  to  the  Hebrews.  The  difliculty  which  has  been 
found  in  establishing  the  literary  relations  between 
these  is  due  to  the  fact  that  these  relations  are  not  so 
much  literary  as  psychical.  It  is  a  common  experience 
still  hot  from  the  crucible  which  is  run  into  these 
various  moulds.  And  here  again  the  variations  are 
not  more  striking  than  the  general  conformity  to  type; 
the  diversities  of  operation  are  as  conspicuous  as  the 
oneness  of  the  Spirit. 

And  the  penetrating  insight  ( eVi'y  vwo-t?,  aia6i]ai<;, 
(TvVco-is),  which  is  claimed  as  the  product  of  the 
Kolnonia,  or  of  love  its  animating  temper,  finds  con- 
spicuous illustration  in  the  case  of  St.  Paul,  and  that  in 
at  least  two  directions.  By  his  searching  examina- 
tion of  the  history  of  his  own  conscience,  he  became  the 
pioneer  for  European  thought  in  the  moral  analysis  of 
self.  And  he  penetrated  deeply  into  the  meaning  of 
Jesus,  both  as  an  ethical  teacher  and  as  a  religious  per- 
sonality. In  both  connections  he  seized  what  was  cen- 
tral, and  In  both  connections  it  was  the  same,  namely. 
Love  (i  Thess.  v.  9;  Gal.  ii.  20).  And  from  that 
centre  he  drew  In  each  case  a  circle,  the  ethical  contents 


144  THE  SPIRIT  IV 

of  ^^  hich  prove  to  be  wiiat  was  In  the  mind  of  Christ, 
whether  of  ideal  for  humanity  or  of  purpose  for  Him- 
self. A  portrait  of  an  Ideal  Christian  drawn  from 
material  provided  by  the  Hrst  l^plstle  to  the  Thessa- 
lonians  would  not  be  easy  to  dlstlniri.ilsh  from  one  con- 
structed out  of  the  Synoptic  Gospels.  And  yet  the 
one  is  not  a  copy  of  the  other.  They  are  portraits  of 
what  is  seen  by  two  different  persons  from  practically 
the  same  point  of  view.  It  was  not  without  reason 
that  Paul  said,  "  We  have  the  mind  of  Christ." 

These  manifestations  of  "  life,"  Intellectual,  ethical, 
spiritual,  and  practical,  could  be  described  indifferently 
as  taking  place  "  in  Christ,"  "  in  the  Spirit,"  and  "  In  " 
or  "  through  the  Fellowship,"  These  three  concep- 
tions mutually  support  and  explain  one  another. 
They  are  really  different  ways  of  contemplating  the 
sphere  of  Christian  experience.  And,  indeed,  it  Is  here 
that  we  shall  find  the  clue  to  what  is  called  the  "  mys- 
ticism of  St.  Paul."  "  The  Lord  Is  the  Spirit,"  wrote 
the  Apostle  in  a  sentence  of  profound  significance. 
The  epoch-making  discovery  was  due  to  the  observed 
Identity  in  the  working  of  the  Spirit  with  the  recorded 
influence  of  Jesus.  It  was  a  discovery  as  important  in 
its  bearing  on  the  conception  of  the  Spirit  as  on  the 
conception  of  Christ.  If  Jesus,  who  was  the  Christ,  is 
now  thought  of  in  terms  of  "  the  Spirit,"  the  Spirit 
is  now  understood  in  terms  of  Christ.  Previous  to 
Pentecost  It  had  been  regarded  as  the  divine 
energy  in  Its  operation  especially  upon  men  — 
invisible,  potent,  somewhat  unaccountable.  Hence- 
forward, through  being  discovered  to  have  char- 
acter, the  Spirit  is  conceived  as  "  personal."  It, 
or  as  the  writers  of  the  New  Testament  now  begin 
to  call  it,  "  He  "  operates  along  lines  which  can  be 
foreseen,  because  they  have  been  observed  already  as 
guiding  the  activities  and  the  Influence  of  Jesus.  And 
the  Koinonia,  within  which  men  could  count  on  feeling 
the  full  pressure  of  their  influence,  might  be  described 


IV     WHAT  HAPPENED  AT  PENTECOST   145 

indifferently  as  the  sphere  that  was  "  Christ,"  or  the 
atmosphere  that  was  "  the  Spirit."  If  "  Messiah  " 
connects  "  the  Spirit  "  with  history,  the  "  Fellowship  " 
connects  them  both  with  experience. 

The  Ethical  Confirmation 

It  has  become  the  fashion  with  some  to  label  much 
of  what  has  been  here  set  forth  as  "  Pauline  mysti- 
cism," and  to  dismiss  it  as  subjective,  or  esoteric,  or  in- 
comprehensible. But  if  the  view  which  I  have  tried  to 
expound  and  support  be  correct,  this  line  of  thought 
runs  back  behind  Paul;  ^  it  is  rooted  in  the  experience 
of  the  days  immediately  following  Pentecost;  and  it 
is  redeemed  from  the  imputation  of  being  only 
"  mysticism  "  by  the  attestation  it  receives  from  the 
ethical  standards  and  achievements  of  the  primitive 
Church.  An  aya-m]  or  "  love  "  which  embraced  Gen- 
tiles as  well  as  Jews  was  as  new  to  the  Jew  as  other 
parts  of  the  Christian  ideal  were  to  the  Gentile.  And 
neither  the  dyaTn/  nor  any  part  of  the  ideal  remained 
as  ideal  only.  Members  of  the  Koinonia  manifested 
distinct  approximation  to  it  in  all  its  parts.  Paul's 
demand  for  further  achievement,  even  his  criticism  of 
failure,  must  not  blind  us  to  the  evidence  that  he 
assumed,  and  must  have  had  ground  to  assume,  a  firm 
foundation  of  purpose  and  of  achievement  on  which  to 
build  further.  He  is  found  perpetually  rejoicing  over 
the  alliance  between  religion  and  morality,  between  the 
experience  of  the  Spirit  and  the  fruit  of  the  Spirit. 
Already  in  the  opening  of  the  first  Thessalonian 
Epistle,  in  what  are  probably  the  earliest  written 
words  of  Paul  that  have  come  down  to  us,  we  meet 
the  triad  of  Christian  virtues  —  faith,  love,  and  hope; 
and  these  not  as  requiring  to  be  inculcated  or  extolled 
as  ideals,  but  as  already  distinguishing,  and  known  by 
the    outer    world    to    distinguish,    the    Christians    of 

1  There  is  somr  reason  to  think  that  even  the  phrase  eV   XpiffTiii  and  tlie  sig- 
nificant   use    of    it    were   pre-Pauline. 


146  THE  SPIRIT  iv 

Thessalonica.  And  further,  by  the  phraseology  which 
the  Apostle  here  adopts  we  may  clearly  see  these  vir- 
tues not  merely  passive  or  dormant.  We  see  faith  at 
work  producing  achievement  (epyoy)  ;  love  undertaking, 
and  manifesting  itself  in,  toil;  and  hope  issuing  in 
patient  endurance,  apparently  of  the  disabilities  and 
persecutions  incident  to  the  profession  of  faith  in 
Christ.  And  in  these  facts,  before  him,  the  Apostle 
finds  ground  for  the  assurance  that  his  message  had 
been  "  not  in  word  only,  but  in  power  and  in  the  Holy 
Spirit." 

For  the  acceptance  of  this  ideal  and  the  partial  ful- 
filment of  it  was  not  due  to  the  adoption  of  a  new  law 
or  code  for  the  regulation  of  life.  The  Christian  had 
a  law,  in  the  sense  that  he  knew  what  was  required  of 
him;  but  it  was  no  external  code;  it  was  the  law,  the 
regulative  influence,  of  the  Spirit,  who  was  the  source 
of  the  life  he  lived  in  Christ  Jesus  (Rom.  viii.  2). 
The  effect  of  it  was  to  emancipate  him  from  any  sys- 
tem of  positive  law;  and  at  the  same  time  the  same 
Spirit  was  at  work  to  do  in  him  and  through  him  the 
things  that  "  the  law  could  not  do."  For  the  Spirit 
was  recognised  as  the  source  of  those  inward  condi- 
tions realised  by  the  believer  alone,  the  "  love,  joy, 
peace,"  and  also  as  the  source  of  those  ethical  qualities 
and  tempers  which  distinguished  the  internal  relations 
of  the  new  community,  the  "  long-temperedness,  kind- 
ness, goodness." 

But  these  things  again  had  been  characteristic  of  the 
Christ  in  the  days  of  His  flesh  (2  Cor.  x.  i),  and  they 
were  found  developed  within  the  Koinonia  established 
by  His  Spirit.  The  new  life,  the  life  of  the  "  new 
man,"  had  transcendence  and  a  divine  quality  secured 
to  it  by  its  being  "  in  the  Spirit  ";  its  norm  and  goal 
were  set  for  it  by  its  being  "  in  Christ  ";  it  discovered 
the  experimental  confirmation  of  its  reality  and  the 
pledge  of  its  perfection  in  the  ethical  power  and  prog- 
ress generated  within  the  Koinonia. 


IV     WHAT  HAPPENED  AT  PENTECOST    147 

The  immediate  and  essential  result  of  Pentecost  was 
the  creation  of  this  Kolnonia :  "  a  community  of  sacred 
love  which  frees  humanity  from  all  limitations  of  nat- 
ural egotism."  The  primary  work  of  the  Spirit  had 
been  to  sweep  away  or  to  submerge  diffinities,  to  com- 
bine men  and  women  of  many  different  types  into  this 
Divine  Fellowship,  which  became  in  turn  the  organ  of 
the  same  Spirit  in  deepening  the  knowledge  of  God 
and  in  purifying  and  ennobling  the  character  of  those 
who  were  at  once  partakers  in  the  Fellowship  and  con- 
tributors to  its  life. 

Further  Results:  Gifts  and  Powers 

We  need  not  extend  our  survey  of  what  happened 
at  Pentecost  far  beyond  the  early  days  before  we  meet 
evidence  of  another  phenomenon  which  should  not  be 
overlooked.  The  "  life  "  which  pulsed  through  the 
Body  and  its  members  was  not  life  of  a  kind  which  had 
to  do  only  with  the  world  to  come;  and  it  showed  its 
presence  and  its  energy  in  the  rapid  differentiation  of 
functions  within  the  community,  functions  which  minis- 
tered to  its  own  well-being  and  to  its  extension  in 
the  world.  The  Koinonia  displays  marked  capacity 
both  for  analysis  and  for  synthesis. 

Its  power  of  synthesis  is  seen  in  the  real  coalescence 
of  the  several  groups  in  which  the  Koinonia  was  suc- 
cessively embodied.  They  flowed  together  spon- 
taneously, with  the  result  that  there  emerged  the 
consciousness  of  a  catholic  Koinonia.  They  stretched 
out  hands  to  one  another,  hands  containing  that  "  col- 
lection "  for  the  poor  Christians  at  Jerusalem  which 
Paul  valued  so  highly  as  the  symbol  of  this  all-includ- 
ing unity  (  I  Cor.  xvi.  i,  etc.).  No  official  "  organ  of 
unity"  was  yet  called  for;  the  connective  tissue  which 
held  this  larger  Fellowship  together  was  still  uyu7r>;  or 
Love. 

And  the  Koinonia  showed  the  power  of  analysis. 
It   recognised    and   rejoiced   in   that  differentiation   of 


148  THE  SPIRIT  IV 

functions  — "  diversities  of  operations,"  Paul  calls 
it  —  which  also  was  the  work  of  the  Spirit. 
"  Apostles,"  "  evangelists,"  "  prophets,"  "  pastors 
and  teachers,"  "  workers  of  miracles,"  "  healers," 
"  helpers,"  "  administrators,"  "  speakers  in  tongues," 
"  discerners  of  spirits,"  "  interpreters  of  tongues  " — 
even  that  list  dt)es  not  exhaust  the  varieties  of  talents, 
with  corresponding  varieties  of  service,  which  were 
recognised  within  the  primitive  community.  These 
highly  differentiated  powers  are  described  as  "  set  in 
the  Church  "  by  God,  or  as  "  given  "  to  the  Church  by 
the  ascended  Lord,  or  as  graceworkings  of  the  Spirit. 
It  will  not  be  supposed,  however,  that  in  the  case  of 
any  of  these  powers  the  gift  was  an  entirely  new  thing 
in  the  individual  who  received  it,  a  pure  addition  to 
faculties  which  were  otherwise  without  it.  It  was  the 
doing  and  gift  of  God;  but,  looked  at  from  another 
standpoint,  it  was  in  fact  the  quickening,  at  the  touch 
of  the  Spirit,  of  powers  that  were  already  there,  but 
dormant,  the  sudden  release  of  faculties  that  had  lain 
below  the  "  threshold  "  of  consciousness. 

The  purpose  and  function  of  all  these  gifts  and 
powers  was  "  the  upbuilding  of  the  Body  of  Christ." 
Devotion  to  Him,  in  which  the  whole  experience 
started,  was  translated  into  devotion  to  the  highest 
interests,  whether  Intensive  or  extensive,  of  the 
Kolnonia.  And  in  the  impulse  of  self-communication, 
the  realisation  of  the  life,  and  service  of  the  needs,  of 
others,  was  found  the  secret  of  the  Intensification  of 
individual  llfe,^  The  nascent  Church  discovered  the 
truth  of  its  Master's  teaching:  "He  that  hateth  his 
life  In  this  world  shall  keep  it  unto  life  eternal." 

Organisation  followed.  The  question  has  been 
raised  and  copiously  discussed  whether  the  organisa- 
tion was  "  from  above  "  or  "  from  below."  It  was 
neither;  it  was  from  within.  It  arose  within  the  sacred 
Body  through  the  operation  of  powers  belonging  to  it 

X  Cf .  A.  S.  rringle-Pattison,  The  Idea  of  Cod,  p.  308. 


IV     WHAT  HAPPENED  AT  PENTECOST   149 

as  the  Body  of  Christ.  "  The  body  secreted  the  skele- 
ton." The  Fellowship  displayed  powers  of  selection 
and  co-ordination.  Tested  by  the  one  criterion,  to 
what  degree  does  It  edify?  The  various  gifts  and 
powers  were  arranged  in  order  of  value.  Sane  judge- 
ment of  spiritual  values  was  one  of  the  functions  of  the 
Fellowship.  Some  of  those  at  the  lower  end  of  the 
scale,  such  as  speaking  with  tongues,  dropped  out. 
They  "  failed,"  or  "  ceased,"  because  they  were  of 
little  value  to  the  community. 

This  is  illuminative  not  only  of  the  power  of  the 
Spirit  to  enable  men  to  discern  proportionate  values, 
but  also  of  the  true  "  end  "  or  purpose  of  the  gifts. 
That  was  not  immediately,  at  any  rate,  the  salvation, 
sanctification,  or  perfection  of  the  Individual,  but  the 
growth,  purification  of  the  community,  and  intensifica- 
tion of  its  life.  The  Apostle's  language  in  Eph.  iv.  12 
is  no  illustration  of  the  contrary.  The  "  perfecting  of 
the  saints"  (A.V. )  means  the  knitting  together  of 
God's  people,  the  continuous  repairing  of  the  fabric  of 
the  Body.  Saintliness,  according  to  the  New  Testa- 
ment conception  of  it,  is  a  social  phenomenon.  An 
isolated  or  individual  "  saint  "  would  have  appeared 
to  its  writers  as  little  less  than  a  contradiction  in  terms. 
And  as  personality  has  been  well  defined  as  "  capacity 
for  fellowship,"  so  the  society  which  educes  and 
educates  that  capacity  is  at  the  same  time  the  strongest 
force  in  the  development  of  personality.  So  far  is  it 
from  being  true  that  the  New  Testament,  or  any  of 
the  voices  which  speak  to  us  through  it,  urges  us  to 
"  save  our  own  souls,"  that  it  preaches  consistently  and 
insistently  that  the  way  to  self-realisation  is  found  in 
that  denial  of  self  which  is  implied  in  and  consecrated 
by  the  fellowship. 

By  the  use  of  these  gifts,  and  in  the  exercise  of 
these  powers  of  selection  and  co-ordination,  the  I'cllow- 
ship  proceeded  to  develop  an  organisation,  "  in  its 
growth  taking  to  itself  such  outward  form  as  it  needed 


150  THE  SPIRIT  iv 

for  its  inward  life."  '  There  Is  no  evidence  in  the 
New  rcstament  that  any  particular  form,  Congrega- 
tional, Presbyterian,  or  Episcopal,  had  been  prescribed 
for  It,  or  that  any  single  form  is  necessary  either  for  its 
existence  or  its  well-being.  In  the  earliest  stage  or 
stages  which  we  can  detect  the  organisation  was  Huld 
or  flexible.  Some  of  the  factors  In  It  which  at  the  first 
were  most  highly  esteemed  either  disappeared  (like  the 
Apostles)  or  even  fell  into  disrepute  (like  the  Proph- 
ets). The  shaping  of  the  nascent  organisation  was 
guided  from  the  first  by  analogies  which  were  already 
familiar  —  analogies  of  the  family,  the  village  com- 
munity, the  voluntary  association;  at  a  subsequent 
period  by  the  ancient  Institutions  of  Judaism  (as  In  the 
threefold  ministry),  and  then  by  the  administrative 
forms  of  the  Empire  (as  in  the  diocesan  organisation). 
But  during  "  the  high  tides  of  the  Spirit  "  it  is  evi- 
dent that  the  community  was  conscious  of  the  abiding 
possibility  that  new  forms  of  service  and  of  capacity 
for  It  might  at  any  time  emerge;  and  further,  that  it 
was  conscious  of  Its  own  inherent  right  to  recognise, 
adjust,  or.  If  need  be,  dispense  with  any  such  form. 
For  was  it  not  the  "  Fellowship  of  the  Spirit  "?  And 
"  where  the  Spirit  of  the  Lord  is,  there  is  liberty." 

What  a  close  Examination  shows  to  have 

BEEN  THE  SITUATION:  A  MODERN  PeNTECOST 

What  happened  at  Pentecost  provides  the  classical 
illustration  of  what  happens  at  the  "  coming  "  of  the 
Holy  Spirit.  Christendom  has  not  been  without  ex- 
perience of  such  coming  In  a  striking  measure  at  dif- 
ferent periods  and  In  many  parts  of  the  world.  But 
the  Church  has  never  ceased  to  pray  that  the  Spirit  of 
Christ  may  be  given  to  It  with  a  fulness  hitherto  un- 
known, that  His  presence  may  be  realised  on  a  scale 
such  as  the  world  has  never  yet  seen.  It  may  be  worth 
while   to   consider  what,   in   the   light  of  the  classical 

1  J,    L.  I'aton  in  Cambridge  Essays  on  Education,  p.  9, 


IV     WHAT  HAPPENED  AT  PENTECOST   151 

instance,  we  might  expect  to  happen  if  these  prayers 
were  answered. 

( I )  The  manner  and  the  effect  of  His  coming  would 
certainly  be  stated  in  different  terms  from  those  fa- 
miliar to  us  from  the  New  Testament.  There,  as  we 
have  found,  the  experience  is  described,  as  is  only  nat- 
ural, in  terms  of  that  conception  of  spirit  which  pre- 
vailed at  the  time.  If  that  conception  was  akin  to 
that  of  physical,  though  invisible,  forces,  such  as  air, 
wind,  breath,  carrying  the  suggestion  of  fluid  or  in- 
finitely divided  matter,  it  was  inevitable  that  the  ex- 
perience should  clothe  itself  in  such  language  as  we 
find.  The  Spirit  "  came  upon  them,"  was  "  poured 
out,"  "  shed  forth  ";  it  "  entered  "  Into  men  as  though 
from  without;  and  its  influence  was  regarded  as  im- 
pelling men  as  though  by  an  external  force  (Rom.  viii. 
14;  cf.  I  Cor.  xii.  2).  But  it  would  make  no  differ- 
ence to  the  reality  of  the  experience  if  It  proved  natural 
to  us  to  describe  It  In  quite  other  terms,  in  terms  de- 
rived not  from  the  physical,  but  from  the  psychical 
nature  of  man. 

For  us  spirit  represents  the  subtlest  element  in  per- 
sonality, that  which  alone,  and  then  only  in  favour- 
able circumstances,  can  open  communication  between 
one  personality  and  another.  We  ascribe  to  it  In  gen- 
eral "  that  indefinitely  penetrative  and  penetrable 
quality,  that  power  of  embracing  and  stimulating  other 
minds,  which  we  know,  from  daily  experience,  consti- 
tutes the  very  character,  actuation,  and  worth  of  our 
own  spirit."  ^  The  Spirit  "  searches  the  depths  of 
human  personality  ";  by  It  God  penetrates  all  the  outer 
envelopes  of  our  Individual  being,  and  touches  our 
spirit.  And  they  are  kin  one  to  another,  so  that  in 
what  follows  it  is  hard  to  distinguish  what  arrives  from 
God  from  what  arises  from  the  subconscious  self  of 
man.  And  the  experience  would  be  not  less  truly  due 
to   the   action    (or   arrival)    of  the    iJlvIne   Spirit   al- 

1  \'on    HuRcl,    Eternal    Life,    p.    22c). 


I  ^ 


THE  SPIRIT  IV 


though  what  the  New  Testament  describes  as  "  the 
gifts  "  or  "  the  power  "  of  the  Spirit  were  to  be  recog- 
nised as  what  had  been  dormant  capabilities  or  unem- 
ployed determinations  of  the  human  self,  Michael 
Angclo  in  his  "  Creation  of  Adam  "  has  shown  us  the 
complete  man  vitalised  into  possession  of  all  his  pow- 
ers by  the  touch  of  "  the  finger  of  (jod." 

(2)  The  coming  of  the  Spirit  is  to  be  looked  for 
rather  by  a  group  than  by  an  individual,  unless  it 
be  at  the  moment  when  the  individual  merges  himself 
in  the  group.  It  would  be  a  group,  or  a  community 
gathered  round  Jesus  Christ  as  a  centre,  to  whom  they 
give  the  absolute  value  that  belongs  only  to  the  Divine. 
For  them  all  other  values  would  be  a  part  of  this,  or 
else  subordinate  to  it.  Stated  in  Scripture  language 
they  would  "  sanctify  Christ  in  their  hearts  as  Lord," 
and  be  seeking  His  Kingdom  before  all  else.  That  is 
to  say,  the  persona!  object  of  their  devotion  would  be 
felt  to  include  all  social  values  which  make  for  the  true 
happiness  of  mankind;  and  for  the  sake  of  these  they 
would  be  prepared  to  sacrifice  all  other  values.  So 
that  to  this  devotion,  simple  in  its  direction,  yet  com- 
plex in  its  grasp,  would  be  subordinated  every  other 
interest,  whether  personal  or  corporate,  ecclesiastical 
or  social.  Christ  would  be  "  all  in  all,"  because  He 
is  all  that  has  eternal  value. 

(3)  The  first  result  of  the  coming  of  the  Spirit 
would  be  seen  in  the  removal  of  diffinities.  Christ  be- 
ing the  centre,  the  centripetal  forces  would  be  found  to 
exceed  the  centrifugal.  The  group,  whether  small  or 
large,  would  discover  its  power  to  assimilate  indi- 
viduals or  other  groups  which,  while  spiritually  akin 
to  it,  were  separated  from  it  by  differences  of  taste, 
social  standing,  or  intellectual  outlook.  The  common 
relation  to  a  universal  would  outweigh  all  divisive  rela- 
tions to  particulars. 

A  further  result  would  be  "  life,  more  life,"  mani- 
festing itself  in  a  great  enhancement  of  powers  already 


IV     WHAT  HAPPENED  AT  PENTECOST    153 

operative,  but  also  in  the  uprush  of  others  which  had 
been  dormant  below  the  threshold.  We  should  see  an 
overmastering  sense  of  brotherhood  (ayoTr^),  a  se- 
renity of  mind  and  temper  {elp^iTj) ,  and  a  restoration 
of  religious  joy  such  as  Paul  noted  as  the  fruit  of 
the  Spirit;  and  accompanying  these  a  marked  increase 
of  qualities  whose  social  value  we  have  been  inclined 
to  under-estimate  —  long-temperedness,  kindness, 
goodness,  as  well  as  of  others  the  world  has  always 
valued  —  honour,  considerateness,  self-control. 

But,  judging  by  the  analogy  of  Pentecost,  we  should 
have  to  be  prepared  also  for  consequences  that  might 
be  described  as  revolutionary,  whether  in  thought  or 
in  organisation.  The  Spirit  Is  sovereign  where  He 
dwells,  though  His  witness  to  the  individual  has  always 
to  be  checked  by  His  witness  to  the  community. 
Even  the  doctrine  of  private  property  went  up  in  that 
flame.  Even  the  Temple  and  the  system  it  stood  for 
became  an  irrelevance.  To  pray  for  the  coming  of 
the  Spirit  with  understanding  of  what  His  coming 
would  mean,  and  "  with  faith  nothing  wavering,"  is 
indeed  a  great  achievement.  But  the  answer  to  such 
a  prayer  is  prompt  and  decisive  of  all  the  supreme  Is- 
sues of  life. 


THE  PSYCHOLOGY  OF  GRACE: 
HOW  GOD  HELPS 

BY 

C.  W.  EMMET,  B.D. 

VICAR    OF    WEST    HENDRED 

EXAMINING   CHAPLAIN    TO   THE   BISHOF    OF   OXFORD 

AUTHOR    OF 

"the    ESCHATOLOGICAL    question     in    THE    GOSPELS,"    "THE    EPISTLE    TO    THE    GALA- 

TiANS  "  (readers'  commentary),  "conscience,  creeds,  and  critics,"  etc. 


ANALYSIS 

Introdi'CTION. —  The  relation  of  personalities  as  seen  in  the  con- 
ductor and  his  ordiestra,  the  teacher  and  liis  pupils.  The  influence  of 
the  Spirit  of  Clod  on  man  is  of  tlie  same  nature;  this  influence  is  grace, 
which  is  not  a  semi-pliysical. force,  sui  f^eneris. 

The  EicHARiST  as  a  Means  of  Grace. —  This  point  of  view  applied 
to  the  Eucharist.  The  "  special "  presence  of  Christ  psychologically 
considered ;  the  words,  the  acts,  the  elements.  True  and  false  sym- 
bolism. The  corporate  aspect  of  the  Eucharist.  The  minister;  his 
*'  unworthiness."     The  place  of  ritual. 

Nature  and  Grace. —  The  New  Testament  usage.  The  contrast  not 
equivalent  {a)  to  that  between  evil  and  good;  {b)  to  that  between  a 
lower  and  a  higher  type  of  goodness.  All  goodness  due  to  the  grace  of 
God;  His  constant  action  on  man.  Man's  recognition  of  what  is 
always  there.  The  difl^erence  which  comes  with  conscious  fellowship 
with  God  (the  catastrophic  element  in  conversion).  But  grace  not  to 
be  confined  to  its  highest  manifestations. 

Grace  and  Free-Will. —  Disputes  as  to  various  kinds  of  grace; 
based  on  false  assumptions  as  to  its  nature.  The  psychological  parallel 
in  human  experience  of  the  "  I  "  and  the  "  not  I." 

Grace  as  God's  undeserved  Favour. —  The  legalistic  method  of 
approach.  Is  there  a  "  contract "  between  God  and  man,  and  does  He 
go  beyond  it?  The  relation  of  love,  as  known  in  actual  life,  trans- 
cends such  conceptions. 

Conclusion. —  Summary.  Reality  of  communion  not  dependent  on 
emotional  thrill.    The  test  and  result  in  life. 


THE  PSYCHOLOGY  OF  GRACE: 
HOW  GOD  HELPS 

All  who  have  any  appreciation  of  music,  even  though 
they  may  be  without  technical  knowledge  of  the  sub- 
ject, realise  something  of  the  work  and  function  of  a 
great  conductor.  It  is  not  his  business  simply  to  cor- 
rect false  notes  and  secure  uniformity  of  time  and 
rhythm.  He  impresses  on  the  performers  his  own 
conception  of  the  music,  an  insight  into  the  depths 
of  its  meaning  which  they  would  never  have  had  if 
left  to  themselves.  He  also  gives  to  them  a  power  of 
expressing  this  meaning  in  a  way  they  could  not  have 
done  without  him.  He  does  this  partly  by  word  and 
gesture,  but  also  by  a  more  subtle  influence  which  it  is 
not  easy  to  analyse  or  explain.  We  sometimes  call 
it  vaguely  personal  magnetism,  but  no  one  knows  pre- 
cisely what  it  is  or  how  it  works.  It  is  a  kind  of 
telepathy,  a  direct  influence  of  mind  upon  mind,  bring- 
ing with  it  a  real  communion  or  intermingling  of 
spirits. 

It  is  to  be  noted  that,  though  we  may  speak  rightly 
of  the  spirit  of  the  conductor  entering  into  the  members 
of  the  orchestra,  though  that  spirit  is  absorbed  by  them 
so  that  their  own  ideas  become  subordinate  to  his,  yet 
in  the  end  it  is  they,  each  one  individually,  who  execute 
the  several  parts.  By  the  contact  of  his  own  richer 
personality  with  theirs  he  calls  into  being  hidden  po- 
tentialities which  would  otherwise  have  remained  un- 
realised. They  must  have  the  necessary  musical 
knowledge  and  power  of  execution,  though  he  may 
raise  these  to  heights  of  which  they  were  quite  un- 
conscious. Fhey  must  have  also  the  artistic  sense 
which  enables  them  to  penetrate  into  the  subtlest  mcan- 

i57 


158  THE  SPIRIT  V 

in^  of  the  symphony,  once  contact  with  him  has  evoked 
this  sense  and  discovered  to  them  that  meaning  which 
had  been  beyond  the  range  of  their  former  understand- 
ing. It  is  the  richer  personality  which  by  its  influence 
elicits  the  latent  or  subconscious  powers  of  the  self;  the 
result  is  an  enhancement  of  the  personality.  It  is  "  I, 
yet  not  I,"  but  also  it  is  "  I  myself  through  that  which 
is  not  I."  The  violinist  plays  his  part  himself;  he 
uses  his  own  skill  and  powers,  but  these  would  never 
have  reached  so  high  a  pitch  without  the  influence  from 
outside;  this  influence  is  a  real  and  necessary  fac- 
tor. 

The  same  law  may  be  observed  in  other  fields.  It 
is  seen  in  the  general  relation  of  teacher  and  pupil. 
You  have  the  pupil  plodding  along  doggedly  and 
conscientiously,  but  making  no  startling  progress  and 
showing  no  unusual  powers,  and  once  more  there  comes 
the  teacher  with  the  mysterious  gift  of  personality. 
A  new  thing  happens;  under  the  fresh  influence  the 
learner  develops  unsuspected  powers  of  understanding 
and  expression.  He  can  do  things  when  in  touch  with 
the  new  master  which  he  could  not  do  before;  inspired 
achievement  takes  the  place  of  mediocrity.  Once 
more  we  may  say  that  the  spirit  of  the  teacher  enters 
into  the  spirit  of  the  pupil,  but  still  it  is  his  own  self 
which  works,   the  old  self  raised  to  a  higher  plane. ^ 

When  we  pass  to  the  sphere  of  moral  goodness  we 
find  exactly  the  same  principle  at  work.  It  is  a  com- 
monplace, confirmed  by  all  experience,  that  the  chief 
factor  in  moral  achievement  is  personal  influence.  It 
works  by  way  of  word  and  example,  and  it  is  for  this 
reason  that  we  insist  on  the  value  of  reading  the  ex- 
ploits and  the  life-story  of  good  men  and  women. 
But  it  works  most  powerfully  through  personal  con- 
tact. The  presence  of  a  good  man  or  woman  with 
the  gift  of  a  sympathetic  personality  is  admittedly  the 
greatest  human   force  in  developing  character.     This 

1  We  might  illustrate  further  from  the  relation   of  the  psychotherapist  to  his 
patient;    sec   pp.    69    ff. 


V  THE   PSYCHOLOGY  OF  GRACE        159 

gift  is  found  in  very  varying  degrees.  There  are  some 
whose  lives  seem  to  be  lived  on  a  high  level,  yet  they 
do  not  attract  or  influence.  On  the  contrary,  their 
presence  by  a  kind  of  instinctive  reaction  fills  us  with 
an  unreasoning  desire  to  be  as  wicked  as  possible.  Cer- 
tain teachers  notoriously  have  this  effect  upon  many 
of  their  children;  they  have  neither  the  charm  of  good- 
ness nor  the  spell  of  personality.  Others,  whose  lives 
may  sometimes  be  more  open  to  obvious  criticism,  have 
it  to  a  marked  degree.  To  be  with  them  is  the  safe- 
guard against  sin  and  the  inducement  to  goodness.^ 
Once  more  there  is  a  blending  of  spirit  with  spirit,  but 
the  self  of  the  one  who  is  influenced  remains  his  own 
self,  discovering  unrealised  capacities  of  moral  great- 
ness and  hidden  depths  of  character. 

It  will  be  generally  agreed  that  this  gift  of  evoking'] 
such  latent  capacities  is  seen  at  Its  highest  in  Christ.  ' 
It  meets  us  on  every  page  of  the  Gospels.      Men  ab- 
sorbed  in  their  business,  like  Levi  or  Zaccheeus,   the 
outcast   and   abandoned,   of  whom   all   despaired   and 
who  had  come  to  despair  of  themselves,  the  very  con- 
vict at  the  point  of  death,  find  in  personal  contact  with  1 
Him    a   new  love   of  goodness   and  a   new   power  of' 
realising  it.      But   the   experience   of   Christianity  has 
been  that  the  possibility  of  such  personal  contact,  with 
all   that  it   implies,   did  not  cease  with  the  death   of 
Jesus.     The   conviction   of  the^^feality'oF  Intercourse 
with  Him  and  of  the  incalculable  results  of  that  inter- 
course runs  through  the  whole  of  the  New  Testament 
It  is  the  centre  of  what  is  called  the  "  mysticism  "  of 
St.  Paul  and  St.  John.      Under  varying  forms  of  ex- 
pression Christians  of  all  ages  have  found  that  they 
can  come  into  personal  touch  with  God  and  with  Christ. 
His   Spirit  dwells  in   them;  they  are   "in  Him"   and 
"  He  in  them";  their  own  personality  is  purified  and 

1  It  nciil  hardly  be  .iddcd  tliat  an  evil  personality  is  equally  the  greatest 
force  in  the  opposite  direction.  In  the  career  of  a  Rasputin  we  have  such 
a  personality  influencing  in  the  most  extraordinary  way  many  of  those  who 
come   within  its   orbit   and   degrading   them   to   its  own   level. 


i6o  THE  SPIRIT  V 

•enhanced.  They  can  do  new  things;  it  is  they  who 
Ido  them  through  God  who  worketh  in  them. 

I  he  whole  process  is  personal,  resting  on  the  contact 
between  the  human  spirit  and  the  divine,  and  the  argu- 
ment of  this  paper  is  that  this  is  always  and  solely 
what  we  mean,  or  ought  to  mean,  by  grace.  Grace  is 
simply  the  result  of  contact  of  man's  personality,  or 
spirit,  with  God's. ^  Personality  has  been  defined  as 
"  capacity  for  fellowship,"  -  and  it  only  discovers  its 
full  capacities  in  that  fellowship  which  is  the  knowl- 
edge of  God  and  of  Jesus  Christ  whom  He  has  sent. 

It  is  not  suggested  that  this  is  a  novel  conception. 
It  has,  indeed,  always  been  the  underlying  experience 
of  Christianity,  and  very  often  an  important  element  in 
its  teaching.  But  it  has  been  confused  and  overlaid  by 
artificial  ideas  of  grace. ^  Grace  has  been  conceived  of 
as  an  external,  semi-physical  "  something "  which 
comes  into  some  souls  at  certain  times  and  under  cer- 
tain conditions,  much  like  an  electric  current."*  It  is  a 
force  infused,  a  drug  prescribed  to  counteract  the 
microbe  of  sin,  something  which  can  be  taken  in  quan- 
tities and  at  regular  intervals,  and  which  has  its  special 
channels  and  means. 

Further,  It  is  regarded  as  something  sui  generis. 
The  divine  grace  is  not  in  line  with  ordinary  human 
experience.  The  illustrations  we  have  been  consider- 
ing would  be  admitted  only  as  distant  analogies  of  the 
way  in  which  grace  may  come.  But  our  contention  is 
that  they  are  more  than  analogies;  they  are  examples 
on  a  lower  scale  of  what  actually  happens  when  we 
come    Into    touch    with    the    Divine    Spirit.     Grace   is 

1  For  our  present  purpose  it  is  not  very  important  whether  we  think  of  this  as 
contact  with  God,  Christ,  or  the  Holy  Spirit. 

2  J.   L.    Paton    in    Cambridge  Essays   on   Education,   p.   8. 

3  See   detached   note   A   on   "  The    New   Testament   Conception    of   Grace." 

4  "  Disregard  of  the  fact  of  moral  personality,  as  thougli  religion  could  be 
passed  into  the  soul  like  a  stream  of  electricity,  is  invariably  caused  by  or 
causes  the  thought  of  grace  as  a  secret  Divine  energy,  due  solely  to  omnipo- 
tence, and  acting  on  the  human  will  with  irresistible  pressure  —  a  quasi-physical 
force,  stored  within  the  Church,  and  applied  to  the  soul-substance  in  its  subcon- 
scious depths"  (U.  R.  Mackintosh,  Enc.  of  Religion  and  Ethics,  s.v.  "Grace"). 
The  companion  art-cle,  "Grace,  Doctrine  of  (Roman  Catholic),"  affords  abun- 
dant illustrations  of  this  way  of  regarding  grace. 


IV  THE  PSYCHOLOGY  OF  GRACE        i6i 

nothing  but  the  result  of  such  contact;  It  comes  from 

the  Intercourse  of  person  with  person.      "  The  meansj 

of  grace  "   are  simply  ways  of  getting  Into  personal 

relation  with  God.     We  have  been  almost  afraid  oi 

this  immediate   relation  between  ourselves   and  Him, 

and  have  substituted  for  the  Idea  of  the  direct  action 

of  the  Spirit,  which  we  find  In  the  New  Testament,  the 

Idea    of    grace    as    a    separate    force,    much    as    later 

Judaism    interposed    its    intermediaries    between   man 

and   God.     The   substitution  has  been  helped  by  the 

external  and  legal  analogies,  dear  to  the  Latin  mind, 

which    attached   themselves   to   the   word  gratia.^     It 

would  no  doubt  be  pedantic  to  refuse  ever  to  speak  of 

grace  as  a  force,  or  to  banish  the  familiar  metaphors 

of  the  heavenly  reservoir,  and  of  pipes  and  channels, 

which  suggest  that  grace  Is  conveyed  to  the  soul  like 

a  supernatural  water. ^      But  It  Is  Important  that  such 

ways  of  speaking  should  not  be  central,  and  that  we 

should  not  press  them  too  far.     The  fundamental  Idea 

Is  that  grace  Is  God  Himself  (or  Christ,  or  the  Spirit) 

working  in  and  Influenclng_the  soul,  just  as_one  great 

personality   influences   another,   though   far   rnore   ef- 

fectlvely  and  consIstentTyT" 

This  view  must  not,  of  course,  be  Interpreted  as 
Implying  that  God  is  thought  of  as  merely  one  person- 
ality among  many,  greater,  but  essentially  on  the  same 
level.  He  Is  rather  the  all-pervading,  the  sole  pos- 
sessor of  full  and  complete  personality,  the  underlying 

1  See   detached   note   B. 

2  It  is  worth  notinj!  that  these  metaphors  Rencrally  po  back  to  the  obscure, 
probably  textiially  corrupt,  ajiocalyptic  picture  of  the  candlestick,  the  pipes,  and 
the  olive  trees  in  Zech.  iv.;  sec  Driver's  notes  on  the  passape  in  the  Century 
Bible.  As  is  shown  in  note  A  (p.  193)  phrases  such  as  "means  of  grace"  are 
not  found  in  the  New  Testament.  It  may  be  remarked  that  in  the  early  days  of 
mesmerism  and  hypnotism,  magnetism  was  also  thought  of  as  a  mysterious  in- 
visible fluid,  passing  from  one  body  or  mind  to  another,  and  all  kinds  of  experi- 
ments were  made  to  discover  the  most  effective  means  of  conveying  it.  See, 
e.  g.,  the  description  of  Mcsmer's  famous  haijuct,  a  large  trough  filled  with  glass 
and  iron  filings  and  bottles  immersed  in  wafer,  round  which  the  patients  to  be 
influenced  sat  connected  with  cords  and  holding  one  another's  hands  (quoted  in 
G.  B.  Cutten's  Three  Thousand  Years  of  Mental  llealini;.  p.  -S.s).  This  false 
conception  l^d  to  all  kintls  of  mistakes,  and  it  is  now  realised  that  all  the  phe- 
nomena of  hypnotism  and  suggestion  depend  on  the  direct  influence  of  mind 
upon   mind    (see   above,   p.    75)- 


i62  THE  SPIRIT  V 

reality  of  c\'cry  human  personality:  from  His  all  others 
are  derived;  apart  from  His  they  are  imperfect.  But 
none  the  less  we  are  justifictl  in  arp;uinp;  from  what  we 
know  of  the  relation  of  human  personalities  to  one 
another  to  the  relation  of  this  Personality  to  ourselves, 
just  because  personality,  incomplete  though  it  is,  is  the 
greatest  thing  we  know,  that  of  which  we  have  the 
highest  and  most  direct  experience.  The  mechanical 
conception  of  grace  is  based  on  something  lower  than 
personal  influence  as  seen  at  its  best  between  man 
and  man;  much  less  can  it  do  justice  to  what  happens 
between  man  and  God. 

The  Eucharist  as  a  Means  of  Grace 

It  is  fairly  obvious  that  these  principles  apply  to  such^ 
"  means  of  grace  "  as  prayer,  meditation,  and  the  read- 
ing of  the  Bible;  they  are  all  methods  by  which  the 
soul  can  come  into  direct  contact  with  God.      But  it 
may  be  useful  to  consider  at  some  length  what  light 
they  throw  on  our  conception  of  the  Holy  Communion. 
It  will  be  agreed  by  different  schools  of  thought  that, 
in   spite   of  differences  of  theory,   the   essence  of  the 
Eucharist  lies  in  its  power  of  bringing  us  into  touch 
with  a  personal  Christ.     This  is,  in  fact,  the  underly- 
ing idea  of  the  "  real  presence,"  apart  from  theories  as 
to  the  effect  of  consecration  on  the  elements,  and  so 
forth.     The  belief  is  in  its  way  as  strong  in  Noncon- 
formist celebrations  of  the  rite  as  it  is  in  circles  which 
hold  the  doctrine  of  transubstantiation,  or  something 
like  it.      In  such  celebrations  the  favourite  passages  for 
reading  are  just  those  which  speak  of  this  "  real  pres- 
ence "    of   the    Lord,    the   appearances   in    the    Upper 
Room,  the  walk  to  Emmaus,  or  the  promise  "  where 
two  or  three  are  gathered  together  in  my  name,  there 
am  I  in  the  midst  of  them."      Now  there  are,  of  course, 
obvious  difficulties  directly  we  come  to  speak  of  the 
special  presence  of  an  immanent  Spirit,  present  every- 
where.     It  is  best  to  approach  the  question  from  the 


V  THE  PSYCHOLOGY  OF  GRACE        163 

point  of  view  of  man's  realisation  of  that  presence,  a 
realisation  which,  as  a  matter  of  experience,  does  admit 
of  degree  and  difference.  In  the  words  of  Dr.  Illing- 
worth,^  "  wherever  an  omnipresent  God  is  specially 
realised,  He  specially  is."  "  A  Being  who  is  omni- 
present is.  vi  termini,  present  at  all  times  and  in  all 
places.  When,  therefore.  He  is  recognised  at  a  par- 
ticular time  or  place,  the  recognition  is  not  imaginary 
but  real.  He  is  there  and  causes  His  own  recognition, 
or  reveals  Himself."  Such  recognition  must  depend 
on  man's  expectancy  and  receptivity,  his  faith.  Why, 
then,  is  there  a  special  presence  of  Christ,  or  a  special 
recognition  of  His  universal  presence,  in  the  Holy 
Communion?  Simply  because  the  whole  rite  Is 
charged  with  the  associations  of  His  personality. 
The  words,  the  elements,  the  acts,  carry  us  back  di- 
rectly to  the  supreme  crisis  of  His  life.  No  one  can 
be  present  at  the  rite  with  a  serious  purpose  without 
thinking  vividly  of  Him.  And,  putting  aside  the  ques- 
tion as  to  how  the  case  may  stand  with  departed 
friends,  we  are  concerned  here,  not  with  one  who  is  / 
dead  and  gone,  but  with  One  who  is  alive  and  spir-  ) 
itually  present.  To  think  earnestly  and  lovingly  of 
Him  is  to  realise  His  presence,  to  be  with  Him,  to 
open  the  heart  to  all  the  influence  which  comes  from 
contact  with  His  Spirit,  to  be  in  Him  and  He  In  us. 
All  this  Is  not  metaphor,  but  experience,  widespread 
and  In  direct  line  with  similar,  though  lower,  experi- 
ences which  come  from  intercourse  with  human  per- 
sonalities. Let  It  not  be  supposed  that  such  a  view  Is 
purely  "  subjective,"  that  it  Is  a  case  of  faith  creating 
Its  object.  The  whole  point  is  that  there  Is  something, 
or  rather  Someone,  really  there.  Faith,  or  the  recep- 
tive mind,  under  the  influence  of  the  associations  of  the 
rite,  realises  and  appropriates  to  Itself  the  Presence 
which  is  there  independently,  which  is  striving  to  re- 
veal itself. 

We  can  see  at  once   from  this  point  of  view  why 

I  Divine  Immanence,  pp.  xv,  ijs, 


i64  THE  SPIRIT  V 

the  words  of  Institution,  the  bread  and  the  wine,  and 
the  special  acts  of  consecration,  are  "  necessary  "  to 
the  Eucharist.  It  Is  not  because  the  gift  Is  a  mys- 
terious force,  w'hich  by  a  special  divine  fiat  can  only 
come  through  certain  media,  much  as  electricity  must 
have  its  proper  conductor,  wire  and  not  glass.  Nor 
is  it  that  it  has  been  decreed  that  "  something  hap- 
pens "  if  the  proper  words  are  used  by  the  proper  man. 
It  is  because  these  words,  these  elements,  these  acts, 
and  no  others,  are  Instinct  and  alive  with  the  person- 
ality of  Jesus.  Rice  and  milk  In  themselves  might  be 
the  symbols  of  a  meal  of  communion  with  the  Deity, 
and  of  the  worshippers  with  one  another;  in  some 
countries  they  would  be  the  most  natural  symbols. 
But  they  would  be  arbitrary  and  artificial,  and  there- 
fore psychologically  ineffective,  symbols  of  communion 
with  Christ;  they  are  not  charged  with  the  associations 
of  His  personality,  and  therefore  they  would  not  be,  to 
the  same  extent  as  the  bread  and  wine,  effective  signs 
or  means  of  fellowship  with  Him. 

We  notice  further  that,  even  before  they  attached 
to  themselves  this  particular  associations,  bread  and 
wine  had  a  natural  symbolism  of  their  own,  whether 
they  were  chosen  by  Christ  for  this  reason  or  not. 
Not  only  are  they  the  simplest,  the  most  universal, 
types  of  food  an-d  drink,  and  therefore  of  spiritual 
nourishment  and  growth,  these  latter  being  themselves 
natural  descriptions  of  the  enriching  of  the  soul  which 
comes  from  personal  Intercourse  with  a  greater  per- 
sonality; but  they  also  speak  directly  of  the  crushing 
of  the  separate  grains  and  grapes,  of  their  gathering 
together  into  one,  so  that  they  become  through  death 
the  means  of  life.  The  very  colour  of  the  wine  sug- 
gests the  blood  poured  out.  And  so  they  are  charged 
with  the  associations  of  the  death  and  new  life  of 
Christ;  they  "are"  His  broken  Body  and  poured- 
out  Blood,  and  the  means  by  which,  according  to 
psychological  law,   His  Spirit  of  sacrifice  and  service 


V  THE  PSYCHOLOGY  OF  GRACE        165 

enters  into  us  and  calls  out  the  same  hidden  qualities 
in  our  own  spirits. 

It  may  also  be  added  that  wine  which  maketh  glad 
the  heart  of  man  suggests  the  joy  of  fellowship.  It  is 
not  thought  of  as  the  indulgence  of  the  isolated  and 
selfish  individual,  but  is  associated  with  the  joyful  fes- 
tivals of  reunion  and  of  gathering  of  friends.  Christ, 
at  the  institution  of  the  Eucharist,  looked  forward  to 
drinking  it  with  those  He  loved  at  the  Messianic  Feast 
in  the  Kingdom  of  God.  This  symbolism  has  its  bear- 
ing on  the  corporate  aspect  of  the  rite,  on  which  some- 
thing will  be  said  later  on. 

If,  then,  symbols  are  a  means  of  grace,  it  is  neces- 
sary to  draw  a  distinction  between  true  and  false  sym- 
bolism, between  the  kind  of  associations  which  are  ra- 
tional and  psychologically  valuable,  and  those  which 
are  merely  magical  and  superstitious.  In  a  true  sym- 
bolism the  connection  between  the  symbol  and  the  thing 
symbolised  Is  natural  and  appropriate,  not  arbitrary 
and  artificial,  as  in  the  crude  analogies  often  drawn 
by  primitive  religions.  Associations  which  are  to  be 
psychologically  sound  must  go  back  to  fact,  not  to 
fancy.  If  then,  as  we  hold,  the  Eucharist  does  medi- 
tate a  real  communion  with  a  present  Christ,  on  ac- 
count of  its  symbolism  and  associations,  why  should 
not  a  relic,  or  a  fragment  of  the  true  cross,  do  the 
same?  Here  there  are  two  things  to  be  said.  (i) 
In  fact  relics  have  not  as  a  rule  been  valued  simply 
from  their  associations,  as  means  of  opening  the  heart 
of  the  worshipper  to  the  divine  presence.  They  have 
been  regarded  as  themselves  possessing  a  quasi-magical 
virtue,  property,  or  mana,  working  their  cure  or  Im- 
parting merit  In  themselves,  through  their  inherent 
sanctity.  Hence  there  has  often  been  a  readiness  to 
venerate  relics  which  arc  tri\ial,  ludicrous,  aiul  even 
disgusting.  No  normally-minded  mother  would  treas- 
ure the  thigh-bone  of  her  son  or  the  parings  of  lils 
toe-nails  as   a  means  of  Inducing  loving  thoughts  of 


1 66  THE  SPIRIT  V 

him.  Saintly  relics  of  this  type  can  only  be  valued  as 
wonder-working  charms;  and  a  relic  regarded  as  a 
charm  can  only  lead  the  mind  away  from  the  true 
grace  of  God.  (2)  If  a  fragment  of  the  Cross  or 
a  visit  to  Calvary  is  treated  simply  as  a  means  of 
bringing  vividly  before  the  mind  the  love  of  Christ 
through  its  associations,  it  is,  to  some  at  least,  psycho- 
logically effective  and  legitimate;  it  does  really  help  to 
communion  with  Him.  But  there  must  be  reasonable 
ground  for  believing  that  the  association  rests  on 
fact  —  that  the  site  is  the  true  site  of  the  event  com- 
memorated, that  the  treasured  piece  of  wood  did  ac- 
tually form  part  of  the  Cross.  A  mother  will  not  find 
consolation  in  visiting  the  supposed  grave  of  her 
soldier-son  in  France  if  she  learns  that  there  is  no 
evidence  that  he  was  in  fact  buried  there.  It  may  be 
argued  that  in  all  such  cases  it  is  better  to  leave  people 
undisturbed  in  their  happy  belief.  So  long  as  the 
simple  peasant  thinks  the  relic  genuine,  it  will  have 
the  same  effect  on  him  psychologically  as  if  it  were 
so.  There  may  no  doubt  be  special  cases  in  private 
life,  and  perhaps  also  in  religion,  where  it  would  be 
cruel  to  disabuse  the  trusting  mind  of  some  valued 
fancied  association,  but  in  the  long  run  any  such  method 
of  pious  fraud  brings  its  own  nemesis.  In  the  first 
place  people  do,  and  must  in  the  end,  find  out,  and 
indignation  against  those  responsible  for  deceiving 
them  sometimes  has  very  far-reaching  consequences. 
Secondly,  we  are  looking  at  these  things  as  means  of 
coming  into  personal  touch  with  God.  Truth,  which 
implies  reverence  for  fact,  and  even  for  what  may  seem 
trivial  fact,  is  part  of  the  very  being  of  God,  and  there- 
fore any  cynical  or  easy-going  indifference  to  truth  is 
itself  an  obstacle  to  real  fellowship  with  Him,  an  ob- 
stacle which  will  far  outweigh  any  temporary  gain 
brought  by  associations  believed  in  in  spite  of  evidence. 
Neither  deceiver  nor  those  who  willingly  allow  them- 
selves to  be  deceived  can  under  such  conditions  enter 


V  THE  PSYCHOLOGY  OF  GRACE        167 

Into  full  communion  with  the  God  of  truth.  When, 
then,  we  are  told  that,  if  we  approach  the  Sacraments 
and  methods  of  worship  from  the  side  of  psychology, 
we  must  leave  ignorance  and  superstition  untouched  on 
the  ground  that  they  too  work  well,  our  reply  must  be 
that  in  the  long  run  they  do  not  work  well,  nor  can 
they  ever  do  so  in  a  universe  in  which  reverence  for 
truth  is  a  fundamental  principle. 

To  return  to  the  Eucharist,  we  may,  from  the  point 
of  view  we  are  testing,  understand  something  of  its 
corporate  aspect.  We  recall  the  parallel  of  the  con- 
ductor and  his  orchestra.  Just  because,  and  in  so  far 
as,  the  players  are  a  group  of  men  actuated  by  the 
same  purpose,  the  influence  of  his  personality  on  theirs 
is  intensified.  There  is  a  common  telepathic  pull  which 
increases  the  responsiveness  of  each;  they  are  knit  not 
only  to  him  but  to  one  another  by  sharing  the  same 
spirit.  So  it  is  in  the  Holy  Communion  and  in  all 
common  worship.  While,  as  with  the  single  pupil 
and  his  teacher,  there  is  a  true  contact  between  the 
individual  soul  and  God,  solus  cum  solo,  the  response 
of  the  human  spirit  to  the  divine,  the  intermingling  of 
the  two,  reaches  its  highest  point  when  two  or  three, 
or,  better  still,  a  great  multitude,  are  gathered  together 
under  the  inspiration  of  a  single  purpose.  Grace  is 
indeed  no  private  privilege,  nor  is  salvation  ever 
purely  individual.  Neither  they  without  us,  nor  we 
without  them,  can  be  made  perfect.  In  the  actual 
thought  and  practice  of  the  Church  this  conception  of 
the  fellowship  of  grace  and  salvation  has  often  been 
forgotten,  and  nowhere  more  so  than  in  the  luicharist. 
We  have  been  satisfied  with  the  multiplication  of  a 
number  of  separate  celebrations,  attended  by  mere 
fractions  of  the  faithful,  in  which  each  one  "  makes 
his  communion."  We  shall  never  realise  the  full  pos- 
sibilities of  the  rite  till  we  somehow  make  it  the  "  fel- 
lowship meal  "  at  least  of  the  whole  parish.'      Such  a 

1  A    fuller  discussion    of   this   point   will   be   found    in    my   paper   "  Matins  and 


i68  THE  SPIRIT  V 

fellowship  Is  In  no  sense  a  merely  "  human  "  brother- 
hood; it  is  essentially  mediated  by  the  common  sharing 
of  the  spirit  of  Christ.  It  is  both  a  fact  of  psychology 
and  also  one  of  the  deepest  truths  of  Christian  ethics 
that  our  own  joy  in  receiving  that  Spirit  is  intensified 
by  the  knowledge  that  others  are  receiving  it  too,  and 
that  our  verv  power  of  response  is  increased  by  their 
response.  V.ven  though  the  command  "  Drink  ye  all 
of  this  "  is  only  recorded  in  the  First  Gospel,'  it  un- 
doubtedly expresses  the  mind  of  Christ, 

Here  we  may  find  the  solution  to  a  problem  on 
which  our  psychological  method  may  seem  at  first 
sight  to  throw  little  light.  Why,  on  these  lines,  should 
not  the  Eucharist  be  celebrated  by  any  private  indi- 
vidual who  cares  to  do  so?  'Why,  by  fairly  general 
consent  of  the  Christian  instinct,  even  outside  circles 
which  hold  the  doctrine  of  Apostolic  Succession,  is  the 
chief  part  in  the  celebration  confined  to  duly  ordained 
ministers?  It  is  not  because  in  any  quasi-magical 
sense  this  is  the  condition  of  something  coming  into 
the  elements  or  the  soul,  but  because  in  the  rite  the 
minister  stands  both  for  Christ  and  the  Church.  It 
is  his  function  to  bring  to  the  worshippers  the  sense  of 
the  present  personality  of  Christ.  And,  as  we  have 
seen,  the  Holy  Communion  is  essentially  corporate. 
Each  Eucharist  expresses  ideally  the  desire  of  the 
whole  Church  as  a  society,  as  the  Body  of  Christ,  to 
come  into  communion  with  Its  Head.  From  both 
points  of  view  the  honour  of  acting  as  the  leader  in 
such  a  rite  cannot  normally  be  taken  to  himself  by  any 
man;  he  must  be  duly  authorised  as  the  representative 
of  the  Church. 2     If  we  may  adapt  our  Initial  Illustra- 

Holy  Communion  "  in  Ideals  of  Common  Prayer  (No.   i  of  Tracts  on  Common 
Prayer,  edited  by  Dr.  Sanday). 

1  St.  Mark  has  "  they  all  drank  of  it." 

2  We  need  not  here  enter  into  the  question  whether  in  fact  only  episcopally 
ordained  ministers  can  be  regarded  as  such  representatives,  but  it  may  be  noted 
that  in  recent  discussions  as  to  the  validity  of  orders  more  and  more  stress  has 
come  to  be  laid,  not  on  the  minister  as  possessing  a  special  power  to  do  certain 
things,  but  on  his  being  the  representative  of  the  Church,  whatever  the  concep- 
tion of  the  Church,  or  the  view  taken  of  the  proper  method  of  his  appointment. 


V  THE  PSYCHOLOGY  OF  GRACE        169 

tlon,  not  only  do  the  members  of  the  orchestra  enter 
into  the  spirit  of  the  conductor;  he  also  mediates  to 
them  the  mind,  the  personality,  of  the  composer.  So 
all  priesthood,  whether  exercised  in  rite  or  In  teach- 
ing, Is  a  link  between  the  soul  and  God.  The  true 
priest  will  have  the  spirit  of  Christ,  as  the  conductor 
must  have  the  spirit  of  Beethoven. 

There   have  been  long  debates   as   to  whether  the 
unworthiness  of  the  minister  "  Invalidates  "  the  Sacra- 
ments, and  the  Church,  faced  with  the  appalling  con- 
sequences of  a  negative  answer,  has  realised  that  their 
objective  validity  cannot  be  regarded  as  depending  on 
so  uncertain  a  factor  as  the  moral  condition  and  sin- 
cerity of  the  officiant.     And  just  because,  as  we  Insist, 
Christ  is  always  there,  ready  to  enter  into  any  heart 
which  opens  itself  to  the  Presence,  we  shall  certainly 
agree  that  His  coming  is  not  made  impossible  by  the 
sin  of  the  priest  or  of  any  part  of  the  congregation. 
But  we  have  been  too  readily  satisfied  with  a  technical 
answer  which  Is  largely  based  on  the  idea  of  grace, 
and   especially  sacramental   grace,   as   a   special   force 
generated  under  certain  conditions.      For  though  the 
coming  is  not  made  Impossible  by  any  sin  except  the 
sin  of  the  worshipper  himself,  It  is  made  more  difficult. 
Psychologically    the    worshipper    cannot    respond    so 
readily  If  he  is  conscious  that  the  rite  which  should  be 
instinct  with  the  personality  of  Christ  Is  performed  by 
one  whose  whole  life  is  un-Christlike,  or  with  a  careless 
Indifference  which  gives  the  lie  to  its  spiritual  meaning. 
If  by  a  correct  ritual  we  understand  simply  the  exact 
repetition  of  a  ceremony  according  to  certain  traditional 
and  more  or  less  mechanical  rules,  we  shall  not  attach 
much    Importance    to    it.      But    every    public    action, 
whether    religious   or   civil,   must   gather    round    itself 
some  ritual;  the  purpose  of  such  ritual  should  be  to 
bring  out  the  underlying  meaning  In  whatever  way  is 
found  to  be  most  effective  psychologically,   that  is  to 
say  in  tiic  impression  conveyed  to  the  mind  of  those 


I70  THE  SPIRIT  V 

present.  In  such  a  ritual,  while  due  weigiit  is  given 
to  the  inherited  traditions  and  experience  of  the  past, 
there  should  be  room  for  variations  according  to  the 
genuine  and  spontaneous  mood  of  the  movement;  it 
must  be  alive.  But  a  fixed  outline  is  valuable  just  be- 
cause we  can  none  of  us  depend  on  always  being  at  our 
best.  Every  minister  in  every  denomination  must  some- 
times find  himself  conducting  a  service  when  from 
physical  or  other  causes  he  is  not  completely  "  in  the 
mood.*'  If  his  general  method,  whether  of  prayer  or 
celebrating,  is  deliberately  formed  on  principles  of 
recollectedness  and  reverence,  this  disciplined  habit  will 
not  altogether  fail,  even  at  seasons  of  deadness.  The 
habitual  awareness  of  the  presence  of  God  will  persist 
in  the  subconsciousness  even  when  the  actual  conscious- 
ness is  faint  for  the  moment.  And  both  the  minister 
and  the  worshipper  will  at  such  times  be  safeguarded 
by  a  ritual  which  is  not  simply  an  unthinking  and  me- 
chanical imitation  of  the  past,  but  represent  the  pre- 
dominant instinct  of  a  genuine  reverence.  There  can 
be  little  doubt  that  clergy  of  all  denominations  need  to 
pay  far  more  attention  than  they  sometimes  do  to  the 
psyschological  effect  of  their  method  of  conducting 
divine  service.  Revision  of  the  text  of  the  Prayer  Book 
is  urgently  needed,  but  the  constant  complaint  of  the 
laity  that  the  clergy  do  not  from  the  point  of  view  we 
are  considering  make  the  best  of  the  Prayer  Book  as 
it  stands  is  not  without  good  ground.  There  is  food 
for  thought  in  the  remark  of  a  working  man  after  a 
certain  rapid  rendering  of  Matins  that  he  supposed 
"the  parson  was  paid  by  piece-v/ork  " ;  speed  is  not 
the  primary  condition  of  helping  the  congregation  to 
feel  the  presence  of  God.  In  the  last  resort  the  min- 
ister will  only  succeed  in  doing  this  in  proportion  as  he 
trains  himself  to  feel  that  presence.  According  to  the 
highest  conception  of  true  priesthood  the  unworthiness 
of  the  minister  is  by  no  means  irrelevant;  there  is  a 


V  THE  PSYCHOLOGY  OF  GRACE        171 

sense  In  which  he  Is  the  mediator  between  God  and 
man. 

The  significance  of  Baptism  may  be  treated  very 
briefly.^  To  the  adult  it  both  symbolises  and,  accord- 
ing to  the  principles  already  suggested,  It  does  in  fact 
psychologically  mediate  a  personal  union  with  Christ. 
In  the  Pauline  phrase  the  convert  Is  baptized  Into 
Christ,  or  puts  on  Christ.  In  the  case  of  Infant  Bap- 
tism, while  it  is  impossible  to  speak  of  conscious  fel- 
lowship. It  does  stand  for  incorporation  into  the  com- 
munity, or  spiritual  atmosphere.  In  which  that  fellow- 
ship may  subsequently  be  best  realised.  It  marks  the 
Initial  stage  of  that  personal  union  which,  If  the  rite  Is 
more  than  a  form,  later  training  and  religious  experi- 
ence will  make  actual. 

Nature  and  Grace 

A  familiar  phrase  In  the  Anglican  Church  Catechism 
states  that  we  are  "  by  nature  born  in  sin  and  the 
children  of  wrath  "  and  are  In  baptism  "  made  the 
children  of  grace."  It  rests  on  a  misapplication  of 
Eph.  ii.  3,  "  we  also  all  once  lived  in  the  lusts  of  our 
flesh,  doing  the  desires  of  the  flesh  and  of  the  mind,  and 
were  by  nature  children  of  wrath."  The  last  phrase 
Is  a  Hebraism,  like  "sons  of  disobedience";  there  is 
no  reference  to  infancy  or  to  original  sin;  St.  Paul 
"  is  speaking  of  actual  transgressions,"  and  "  by  nature 
means  simply  '  in  ourselves,'  as  apart  from  the  divine 
purpose  of  mercy."  -  In  fact  the  New  Testament 
writers  use  the  words  "  nature,"  "  natural,"  only 
occasionally,  and  when  they  do  it  is  in  a  good,  or 
at  least  a  neutral,  sense  (Rom.  I.  26  f.,  xi.  21  ff., 
I  Cor.  xi.  14:  2  Pet.  ii.  12  comes  the  nearest  to  a 
bad  sense).  In  some  passages,  such  as  i  Cor.  ii.  14 
("  the  natural  man  receiveth  not  the  things  of  the  Spirit 

1  It  i»  discusser!  more   fully  on   pp.    252   fT. 

2  J.  A.    Robinson,  Epistle  to  the  Ephcsxans,  ad  loc. 


172  THE  SPIRIT  V 

of  God  ")  or  XV.  44  ft.,  a  tliffcrcnt  word  ("  psychic  ") 
is  used;  and  we  do  in  fact  find  in  St.  Paul  a  sharp 
contrast  between  psyche  and  spirit,  or  between  the 
"  flesh  "  (very  nearly  equivalent  to  man  as  he  is)  and 
the  spirit,  between  the  unrcgcnerate  and  the  regenerate 
man.  Grace  is  confined  to  the  latter.  It  is  true  that 
pre-Christian  Abraham  is  the  type  of  faith,  but  the 
principle  of  the  working  of  grace  before  or  outside  the 
Christian  Church  is  not  carried  further,  as  it  is  in  the 
list  of  heroes  of  faith  in  Heb.  xi.  There  is  little  idea 
of  the  presence  of  grace  or  faith  below  the  surface  even 
in  Judaism,  which  controversial  requirements  lead  St. 
Paul  to  contrast  sharply  with  the  Christian  dispensa- 
tion; such  a  conception  as  "  that  rock  was  Christ"  is 
quite  exceptional.  Much  less  is  there  any  hint  of  it  in 
the  Gentile  world;  redemption  and  the  work  of  grace 
are  confined  to  the  Christian  community,  understood 
strictly.  It  is  true  that  in  Rom.  ii.  we  hear  of  Gentiles 
doing  by  nature  the  works  of  the  law,  a  conception 
which  it  is  not  easy  to  harmonise  with  the  standpoint  of 
the  rest  of  the  Epistle.  For  the  moment  St.  Paul  is 
arguing  from  the  point  of  view  of  ordinary  morality. 
His  object  is  to  establish  the  responsibility  of  all  before 
God  and  the  indifference  of  the  law,  not  to  suggest  that 
Gentiles  could  be  "  justified  "  by  their  good  deeds. 
The  whole  passage  is  exceptional  and  out  of  keeping 
with  the  strict  Pauline  theory  of  salvation.  In  general, 
though  the  exact  terms  are  not  used,  we  do  find  in  the 
technical  theology  of  St.  Paul  something  which  corre- 
sponds to  the  sharp  opposition  between  the  realms  of 
nature  and  of  grace  which,  since  the  time  of  Augustine, 
has  been  part  of  the  common  Christian  tradition. 

In  itself  this  conception  is  not  an  easy  one,  but  we 
must  not  make  it  harder  by  interpreting  the  distinction 
between  nature  and  grace  as  equivalent  to  the  distinc- 
tion between  evil  and  goodness,  as  though  nature  were 
in  itself  bad.  As  we  have  seen,  this  is  not  the  teaching 
of  the  New  Testament;  It  is  in  fact  Manichean  rather 


V  THE  PSYCHOLOGY  OF  GRACE        173 

than  Christian.  Nor  is  it  the  teaching  of  Augustine. 
"All  nature,"  he  says,  "  in  so  far  as  it  is  nature,  is 
good;  in  so  far  as  it  corrupted,  it  is  evil."  "The 
nature  of  the  devil  himself,  in  so  far  as  it  is  nature,  is 
not  bad,  but  perversity  makes  it  bad."  ^  According  to 
his  view,  sin  alone  is  against  nature;  even  in  our  fallen 
state  all  human  actions  are  good  in  so  far  as  they  are 
natural.  The  rebellion  of  the  flesh  is  due  to  the  weak- 
ness we  have  earned  by  sinning,  and  this  does  become 
a  kind  of  second  nature.  He  also  sometimes  treats 
the  natural  as  the  fixed  and  necessary,  opposed  to  free- 
will, e.g.  natural  movements  in  contrast  to  voluntary. 

We  may,  then,  reject  without  qualification  the  view 
that  the  distinction  between  nature  and  grace  corre- 
sponds to  that  between  evil  and  good.  According  to 
another  view,  which  is  at  first  sight  more  reasonable 
and  has  behind  it  the  authority  of  Augustine,  the  differ- 
ence between  the  two  is  the  difference  between  a  lower 
and  a  higher  kind  of  goodness,  more  or  less  correspond- 
ing to  the  distinction  between  natural  and  revealed  re- 
ligion. There  are,  it  is  held,  natural  virtues  which  go 
a  certain  way  and  are  independent  of  grace.  Ordinary 
temptations  can,  it  is  suggested,  be  resisted  by  man's 
natural  strength,  but  others,  and  especially  sensual 
temptations,  require  the  grace  of  God.  "  God  does 
not  command  impossibilities,  but  bids  you  do  what  you 
can  and  ask  for  what  is  beyond  your  power."  ^  Num- 
ber XIII.  of  the  Thirty-nine  Articles  speaks  of  works 
—  clearly  what  the  ordinary  man  would  call  good 
works  —  done  before  the  grace  of  God  and  having  the 
nature  of  sin.  In  the  phrase  wrongly  attributed  to 
Augustine,  but  true  to  his  thought,  they  are  splcndida 
vitia.'^ 

The  underlying  conception  here  is  that  grace  is  super- 
natural, in  the  sense  that  it  docs  not  come  to  man  as 

1  I  owe  these  f|Uotalions  to  T.  A.  Laccy,  Nature,  Miracle  and  -Sin,  i)|i.  f)2,  115. 
See  AiiR.  De  Sat.  Boni,  i;  De  Civ.  Vei,  xix.   13. 

2  Dc   Nat.   tt  Grat.   43    (quoted   by    Laccy,   ot-   cil.  p.    127). 

3  See  Lacey,   Nature,   Miracle,  and  Hin,   p.    141. 


174  THE  SPIRIT  V 

man;  It  is  given  to  some,  not  to  all.  To  Augustine 
grace  is  expressly  not  the  general  providence  and  benev- 
olence of  (iod;  it  is  "  that  by  which  we  are  Christians." 
"  It  is  not  nature,  but  that  by  which  nature  is  saved."  ^ 
The  accepted  \iew  since  his  time  has  been  that  super- 
natural grace  was  withdrawn  at  the  Fall  and  restored 
by  Christ. 

We  ask  what  bearing  our  psychological  conception 
of  grace  as  the  result  of  the  direct  impact  of  the  Divine 
Personality  on  the  human  has  on  all  such  distinctions 
between  nature  and  grace.  We  cannot  believe  that 
God  has  ever  left  man  alone;  He  has  been  always 
seeking  and  drawing  him  to  Himself,  establishing  that 
contact  between  His  Spirit  and  the  human  spirit  which 
is  the  essence  of  religion.  Or,  looking  at  it  from  the 
other  side,  man,  everywhere  and  always,  is  made  in  the 
image  of  God,  and  has  within  him  something  of  the 
divine  nature  which  yearns  for  fellowship  with  God, 
like  seeking  like  by  the  law  of  its  being.  What  hap- 
pened when  Christianity  came  into  the  world  was  that 
the  new  religion  manifested  this  eternal  seeking  on 
God's  part  in  a  new  way;  it  opened  to  man  new  possi- 
bilities of  satisfying  his  yearning  for  fellowship. 

In  the  fresh  enthusiasm  engendered  by  it,  when  its 
experiences  were  novel  and  vivid,  and  when  the  need 
of  distinguishing  it  sharply  from  Judaism  and  its 
other  competitors  in  the  mystery  religions  was  widely 
felt,  it  was  natural  to  emphasise,  and  even  to  over- 
emphasise, the  uniqueness  of  its  gift.  Christianity,  It 
seemed,  had  brought  into  the  world  and  man's  life 
a  new  power  with  which  the  non-Christian  had  noth- 
ing to  do.  Both  St.  Paul,  and  subsequently  Augus- 
tine and  Luther,  who  have  been  the  main  influences 
in  moulding  Christian  language  and  thought  on  the 
subjects  of  redemption  and  grace,  had  specially  potent 
personal  experiences  of  a  conversion  bringing  with 
it  an  entire  breach  with  the  past.      But  it  was  also  very 

1  Lacey,    ib.    pp.    128    ff. 


V  THE  PSYCHOLOGY  OF  GRACE        175 

soon  realised  that  it  was  impossible  to  deny  the  exis- 
tence  of  goodness  or  of   fellowship  with   the   Divine 
outside  Christianity.      St.  John  states,  though  he  does 
not   dev^elop,    the    doctrine   of   the   Word,    or  Logos, 
lighting  every  man  who  comes  into  the  world.     This 
aspect   is    emphasised  by   Justin    and   the   Apologists. 
Accepting  the  position  that  salvation,  fellowship  with 
the  Father,  and  real  goodness  could  only  come  through 
Christ,  there  were  two  alternatives.      It  was  possible, 
though   not    reasonable,    to   deny   the    reality   of  such 
things    outside    Christianity,    and   to    ascribe    them   to 
demonic  imitation  of  their  only  genuine  manifestations; 
or,  on  the  other  hand,  to  say  boldly  that,  wherever  they 
were  found,  there  was  Christ,  the  immanent  Logos  — 
in  Socrates  and  Plato,  as  well  as  in  the  Christian  con- 
vert.    This  second  alternative  was  boldly  developed  by 
the  great  Alexandrians,  Clement  and  Origen.     Though 
Christian   theology  has   sometimes   ignored  it,   it  has 
never  cast  it  aside,  however  much  it  may  have  hesitated 
to   draw  out  its   full  implications.     To  us   to-day  no 
other  view  is  possible.     The  corollary  of  the  truth  "  no 
man  cometh  unto  the  Father  but  by  Me,"  is  that  wher- 
ever any  man  in  fact  finds  God  there  Christ  has  been 
present.     The   historic   Christ   and  historical   Christi- 
anity becomes  the  supreme  manifestations  of  a  prin- 
ciple  and  power  at  work  in   men   always;   the   Spirit 
cannot  in  the  end  and  in  the  strict  sense  be  confined 
to   the   Christian   dispensation.     The   doctrine   of  un- 
co^enanted  mercies  is  only  the  epicycle  introduced  when 
the  facts  refuse  to  be  squared  with  the  circles  postulated 
by  theory. 

It  is,  however,  clear  that  the  distinction  between 
nature  and  grace  is  in  some  sense  central  to  a  good  deal 
of  Christian  thought,  and  we  may  be  sure  that  there 
must  be  a  vital  spiritual  truth  behind  it.  We  return  to 
our  illustration.  Wc  saw  how  the  teacher  with  the  gift 
of  influence  and  personality  does  make  such  a  tliffcr- 
cnce  to  the  work  of  the  pupil  that  the  result  is,  in  a  true 


176  THE  SPIRIT  v 

sense,  a  new  tiling.  lie  rises  from  mediocrity,  from 
an  uninspired  accuracy,  to  a  new  stage  of  achievement. 
1  \c  does  so  precisely  In  proportion  as  he  opens  himself 
without  reserve  to  the  inspiration  of  his  master.  If 
there  Is  on  the  side  of  the  pupil  any  antagonism,  con- 
scious or  unconscious,  if  there  is  any  clash  of  Ideals 
and  values,  tiie  flow  of  the  new  influence  Is  blocked 
and  IneHectlve.  The  spirit  of  the  conductor  cannot 
work  In  a  player  who  Insists  on  his  own  reading  of 
the  music,  who  refuses  to  meet  him  with  a  complete 
self-surrender  of  his  own  preconceived  notions.  So 
with  the  soul  and  God.  There  comes  a  point  where 
the  soul  definitely  realises  the  Divine  presence  and 
deliberately  opens  Itself  to  His  influence,  where  It  sur- 
renders Its  own  lower  and  opposing  will,  and  makes 
Its  own  the  higher  ideals  and  values.  Here  too  the 
result  Is  a  new  stage  of  achievement.  In  place  of  the 
dull  level  of  respectable,  plodding,  average  morality, 
we  find  a  fresh  type  of  character,  heroic,  self-forgetting, 
full  of  charm  and  attractiveness,  bringing  to  others  a 
sense  of  the  Divine.  It  Is  not  the  Imitation  of  an  ex- 
ternal code,  the  painful  attempt  to  live  up  to  a  stand- 
ard of  duty  Imposed  from  without;  it  becomes  the 
spontaneous  expression  of  a  life  and  personality  Identi- 
fied with  and  penetrated  by  the  Divine  Personality. 

Here  then,  It  might  be  said,  we  have  after  all  the 
old  sharp  dividing  line  between  nature  and  grace.  Yet 
still  there  Is  a  difference,  in  so  far  as  the  old  view  rests 
on  the  assumption  that  God  Influences  some  men  and 
not  others.  F'or  though,  as  we  are  arguing,  the  way  In 
which  God  influences  man  Is  not  essentially  different 
from  the  way  In  which  we  influence  one  another,  there 
is  one  Important  distinction  between  the  two  cases. 
The  influence  of  the  great  teacher  or  conductor  Is  a 
new  thing  Introduced  Into  the  life  at  a  particular  stage; 
but  the  Influence  of  the  Spirit  of  God  Is  not  a  new 
factor;  it  has  been  there  all  the  time.  The  new  thing  Is 
that  the  soul  realises  and  responds  to  it  In  a  way  it  had 


V  THE  PSYCHOLOGY  OF  GRACE        177 

not  done  before.      The  main  obstacle  to  such  response 
is  always  sin  in  some  form,  a  self-centredness  which 
shuts  out  the  divine  influence.     This  is  the  underlying 
truth  of  the  doctrine  that  supernatural  grace  was  with- 
drawn at  the  Fall.     Without  entering  upon  the  ques- 
tion whether  in  fact  there  has  been  a  breach  in  man's 
spiritual  evolution,  it  is  at  least  clear  that  sin  is  the 
barrier   which   blocks   the   way  to   a    free   communion 
between  man   and   God.     We   see  why  repentance   is 
the  first  stage   in  opening  the  way  to  a  high  degree 
of  such  communion,  and  why  conversion,  the  complete 
surrender  of  the  self  (perhaps  better  regarded  as  the 
complete  dedication  of  the  self),  sometimes  coming  at 
a  definite  crisis,  does  mark  a  new  relationship  to  God. 
Even  from  the  strictly  psychological  point  of  view,  sin 
needs   to   be   taken   very  seriously;   it   is   not   an   easy 
thing  to   open   the   soul   completely   to   the   divine   in- 
fluence  and   indwelling.      At   the   same   time  we  must 
remember  that  after  all  God  has  been  there  all  along, 
even  in  a  sense  within  the  soul,  unrealised,  His  influ- 
ence to  a  great  extent  thwarted.     Whatever  there  has 
been  of  goodness  and  achievement,  however  imperfect, 
has,  so  far  as  it  is  good,  come  from  Him,  from  His 
grace  and  presence  in  the  heart.      "  Every  virtue  we 
possess  and  every  thought  of  holiness  are  His  alone." 
The  Collect,  "  O  God,  from  whom  all  holy  desires,  all 
good  counsels,  and  all  just  works  do  proceed,"  cannot 
in   the   last  resort  be   taken  as  referring  only   to   the 
"  converted  "    Christian.      We    cannot   maintain    that 
there  is  a  natural  goodness  which  takes  man  up  to  a 
certain  point,  and  that  then  supernatural  grace  comes 
in  as  a  new  factor.     The  difference  is  In  the  degree  of 
man's  response   to  the  same  divine  influence  which  is 
always  there. 

It  is,  then,  In  the  degree  of  this  response  that  we 
must  find  the  diflcrence  between  the  converted  and 
unconverted,  the  regenerate  and  unrcgcncrate  man. 
Facts   do    not    allow   us    to   hold   that   it   corresponds 


178  Till'   SPIRIT  V 

closely  to  any  external  distinction  between  the  baptized 
and  unbapti/.ed,  the  communicant  and  the  non-com- 
municant, or  c\  en  the  Christian  and  the  non-Christian. 
It  is  simplv  that,  speaking  roughly,  each  one  of  us  has 
opened  his  heart  to  God  or  he  has  not;  he  is,  or  he  is 
not,  recognising  and  striving  to  live  by  higher  values; 
he  does,  or  he  does  not,  bring  his  will  into  harmony 
with  God's.  But  of  course  in  actual  experience  the 
distinction  is  confused  and  ambiguous.  Men  are  not 
entirely  in  the  flesh  or  in  the  Spirit;  salvation  is  a 
process  which  implies  continual  struggle,  and  an  ever- 
increasing  identification  of  the  self  with  God.  "  Even 
the  man  most  centred  in  himself  responds  to  the 
prompting  of  some  affection  and  some  loyalty  every 
day  of  his  life."  '  Such  language  is  used  constantly, 
even  by  the  strictest  of  theologians  when  writing  from 
the  ordinary  standpoint;  it  implies  not  only  that  every 
man  has  the  grace  of  God,  but  that,  to  however  small 
an  extent,  he  uses  it. 

Our  problem,  then,  is  to  do  justice  to  the  double 
truth.  There  is  in  the  coming  of  the  grace  of  God 
both  the  catastrophic  element  and  also  the  fact  of  its 
continuity.  On  the  one  hand  we  need  to  recognise 
the  startling,  sometimes  the  abrupt,  change  which 
marks  the  breaking  down  of  opposition  and  the  de- 
liberate identification  of  the  human  will  and  purpose 
with  the  divine.  In  this  change  there  may  be  stages. 
The  soul  may  have  come  to  range  itself  on  the  side 
of  goodness  and  the  grace  of  God,  without  recognising 
it  for  what  it  is.  There  may  be  a  real  fellowship  with 
the  Spirit  which  is  an  unconscious  fellowship.  On  the 
road  to  Emmaus  the  two  travellers  find  themselves  in 
intercourse  with  a  stranger  which  becomes  more  and 
more  intimate  as  the  barriers  of  despair  and  reserve  are 
broken  down.  Even  then  their  hearts  burn  within 
them  and  fresh  powers  of  insight  and  hope  are  called 
into  being.    Had  nothing  more  happened  the  experience 

I  Competition :  a  Study  in  Human  Motive,  by  John   Harvey   and  others,  p.   169. 


V  THE  PSYCHOLOGY  OF  GRACE        179 

would  have  been  genuine  and  fruitful.  But  It  Is  a 
greater  experience  still  when  their  eyes  are  opened  and 
they  know  Who  is  the  friend  who  has  been  with  them 
all  the  time.  The  recognition  colours  and  Interprets 
the  earlier  experience.  Unconscious  fellowship  with 
God  is  neither  to  be  denied  nor  despised,  but  conscious 
fellowship  is  something  more.  "  To  recognise  the 
grace  of  God,  to  affirm  it,  is  to  be  aware  of  the  very 
scent  of  God  and  to  be  drawn  by  it  the  more  power- 
fully because  it  Is  known  for  what  it  Is.  The  scent  of 
bluebells  Is  stronger  and  sweeter  to  us  If  we  know  what 
it  is  than  if  we  think  It  comes  from  a  soap  factory  or 
is  produced  In  us  by  some  digestive  process  of  our 
own."  ^  It  Is  not  always  true  psychologically  that  "  a 
rose  by  any  other  name  will  smell  as  sweet."  Even  in 
our  sense  perceptions  we  are  not  passive.  What  we  re- 
ceive effectively  depends  on  attention,  on  the  deliberate 
response  of  our  powers  of  appreciation.  The  delicate 
bouquet  of  the  wine  will  often  be  missed  unless  the 
expectation  Is  sharpened  by  the  knowledge  of  what  is 
offered  to  us.  Still  more  in  personal  intercourse  we 
can  only  reach  the  complete  intermingling  of  spirit 
with  spirit  when  we  know  the  friend  or  the  great  per- 
sonality for  what  he  is.  Life  becomes  a  new  thing 
when  this  awareness  of  the  companion  God,  known  as 
such,  bursts  on  the  soul  for  the  first  time,  as  it  may 
in  a  hundred  different  ways.  And  It  is  an  experience 
which  may  be  often  repeated. 

So  even  I  athirst  for  His  Inspiring, 

I  who  have  talked  with  Him  forget  again; 
Yes,  many  days  with  sobs  and  with  desiring 

Offer  to  God  a  patience  and  a  pain ; 
Then  thro'  the  mid  complaint  of  my  confession, 

Then  thro'  the  pang  and  passion  of  my  prayer, 
Leaps  with  a  start  the  shock  of  His  possession, 

Thrills  mc  and  touches,  and  the  Lord  is  there.'- 

"  The  shock  of  I  Ls  possession,"  the  knowledge  that 

1  A.    ("luttoij  lirock,    Studut   in    Christianity,   \i.    105. 

2  Myers,   6(.  I^aul, 


i8o  THE  SPIRIT  v 

"  the  Lord  is  there,"  the  dweller  in  the  innermost  of 
our  being,  the  source  of  all  our  good,  is  grace  at  its 
highest.  It  might  indeed  be  argued  that  we  should 
keep  the  term  "  grace  "  for  what  happens  when  the 
touch  between  the  human  and  the  Divine  reaches  this 
stage  of  conscious  awareness,  but  this  would  be  to 
ignore  the  other  side.  The  phraseology  wliich  confines 
grace  to  its  supreme  manifestations  inevitably  suggests 
that  what  has  gone  before  is  not  grace,  that  whatever 
of  goodness  the  soul  has  reached  in  the  past  has  come 
from  some  other  source.  It  implies  that  God  has 
given  or  done  something  which  He  had  not  done 
previously;  it  is  not  the  natural  way  of  saying  that 
man  has  opened  his  heart  more  completely  to  that 
which  has  always  been  there.  Side  by  side  with  the 
catastrophic  element  we  need  to  insist  on  the  continuity 
of  God's  influence  on  the  soul,  on  the  fact  that  this 
influence  is  universal,  and  that  it  is  the  one  source  of 
all  goodness  and  achievement,  moral,  intellectual,  and 
aesthetic,  always  and  everywhere.  Though  it  is  true 
that  certain  kinds  of  virtues  do  grow  more  readily  on 
Christian  soil,  they  are  not  altogether  peculiar  to  it, 
nor  are  they  generically  different  in  kind  to  others. 
Moral  goodness  is  homogeneous;  we  cannot  divide  it 
up  into  that  due  to  nature  and  that  due  to  grace, ^  nor 
can  we  hold  that  there  are  essentially  different  types  of 
divine  help  and  influence,  as  though  humanity  outside 
the  range  of  Christianity  were  a  vessel  propelled  by 
steam,  while  within  its  borders  the  new  driving  power 
of  electricity  had  suddenly  come  into  play. 

It  is  worth  quoting  some  words  of  Dr.  Hort  ^  on 
the  Article  "  Of  Works  before  Justification,"  to  which 

1  In  fact  much  of  tlie  goodness  whicli  is  held  to  he  supernatural  and  due 
specifically  to  grace  is  conventional  and  negative,  having  little  of  the  heroism, 
self-forgetfulness,  and  charm  which  are  the  real  marks  of  the  close  fellowship  of 
the  human  spirit  with  the  Divine.  On  the  other  hand,  some  non-Christian,  or 
Stoic,  virtues  lack  much  which  is  found  in  Christianity.  I'ut  this  is  not  to  say 
that,  so  far  as  they  are  virtues,  they  come  from  any  other  source  than  the  grace 
of  God. 

2  Life  and  Letters,  ii.  337  (quoted  in  full  by  Gibson,  Thirty-nine  Articles, 
p.  422). 


V  THE  PSYCHOLOGY  OF  GRACE        i8i 

we  referred  earlier  in  this  section:  "The  principle 
underlying  Article  XIII.  seems  to  me  to  be  this,  that 
there  are  not  two  totally  different  modes  of  access 
to  God  for  men,  faith  for  Christians,  meritorious 
performance  fornon-Christians.  .  .  .  Faith  itself  .  .  . 
is  present  in  a  more  or  less  rudimentary  state  in  every 
upward  effort  and  aspiration  of  men.  .  .  .  Practically 
the  principle  of  the  Article  teaches  us  to  regard  all  the 
good  there  is  in  the  world  as  what  one  may  call  imper- 
fect Christianity,  not  as  something  essentially  different, 
requiring,  so  to  speak,  to  be  dealt  with  by  God  in  a 
wholly  different  manner."  We  may  doubt  whether 
this  is  really  what  the  Article  means  to  say,  but  it  will 
certainly  be  our  own  position.  From  our  point  of  view, 
indeed,  the  discussion  as  to  good  "  works  done  before 
the  grace  of  God  "  is  meaningless.  The  test  of  the 
presence  of  grace,  i.e.  of  some  contact  with  God,  is 
found  in  the  fruits.  In  so  far  as  these  are  present,  we 
conclude  that  grace  has  been  at  work  and  that  there  has 
been  some  response.  We  shall  really  reverse  the  way 
of  putting  the  question.  We  do  not  ask  whether  cer- 
tain people  are  within  the  range  of  grace  {e.g.  in  the 
Church),  and  if  the  answer  is  in  the  negative,  conclude 
that  their  "  works,"  though  apparently  good,  are  not 
so  in  fact;  we  look  at  the  character,  and  say  that,  in  so 
far  as  this  is  good,  there  must  have  been  some  response 
to  grace. ^ 

Grace  and  Free-Will 

The  pages  of  Christian  theology  are  full  of  some- 
what repellent  technicalities  and  hoary  controversies 
as  to  the  kinds  of  grace  and  its  relation  to  free-will. 
Echoes  of  all  this  are  to  be  heard  in  the  Articles  of  the 
Anglican    Church    and    in    the    Confessions    of    other 

1  An  emphatic  recognition  of  this  tnilli  is  given  by  Lord  Halifax:  "  'Without 
me  ye  can  do  nothing."  Now,  what  follows  from  this?  .Surt-ly  that  in  whatever 
degree  wc  sec  this  Christian  life  heing  lived  there  we  may  he  certain  (jod's  grace 
has  been  given,  and  that  as  long  as  any  soul  faithfidly  correspotids  with  the 
grace  given  to  it,  that  soul  is  living  in  (jod's  favmir,  and  that  as  such  we  have  no 
need  to  be  di^iiuictid  about  its  spiritual  ennilition."  The  nference  is  speeilically 
to  members  of  diffcrcut  Christian  bodies  {The  Church  Times,  June  21,  1918), 


i82  THF,  SPIRIT  V 

Churches.  The  candidate  for  Orders  still  spends  much 
time  in  attempting  to  grasp  the  precise  difference  be- 
tween gratia  prcvcuiens  and  co-opcrans,  gratia  de  con- 
gruo  and  dc  condigno,  or  between  sufficient  and  effica- 
cious grace.  Two  quotations  will  suffice.  "  Starting 
from  the  view  that  the  Fall  only  involved  the  loss  of  the 
douiim  supcniatiiralc  [the  supernatural  gift],  and  left 
man  with  moral  and  religious  faculties  belonging  to  him 
by  nature,  [tlic  schoolmen]  taught  that  the  exercise  of 
these  faculties  was  the  natural  transition  to  grace,  and 
that  a  good  use  of  them  was  the  medium  of  grace,  or, 
in  their  phraseology,  merited  it  of  congruity  {de  con- 
gruo) .  God,  they  said,  was  not  bound  to  reward  such 
actions,  but  it  was  congruous  or  fitting  that  he  should. 
But  after  grace  was  received,  the  work  done  in  de- 
pendence on  the  aid  of  the  Holy  Spirit  was  really  good, 
and  this  God  was  bound  to  reward,  crowning  His  own 
gifts  in  man.  Such  actions  deserved  grace  de  condigno, 
and  for  them  God  was  a  debtor."  ^ 

A  Roman  Catholic  theologian-  sums  up  the  teaching 
of  Augustine  and  the  Church  in  this  way:  "God 
provided  for  the  fulfilment  of  His  decree  of  predestina- 
tion and  for  the  preservation  of  the  freedom  of  the 
will,  by  granting  to  the  unpredestined  only  sufficient 
grace,  which  they  were  sure  always  freely  to  disobey  by 
their  own  fault,  and  by  providing  for  the  predestined 
efficacious  grace,  which  they  were  sure  always  freely  to 
follow."  And  then  he  goes  on  to  explain  how  it  is 
that  a  grace  which  is  "  really  and  truly  sufficient " 
should  always  be  disobeyed,  while  a  grace  "  infallibly 
efficacious  "  yet  does  not  infringe  upon  the  freedom  of 
the  will.  Readers  of  Pascal  will  recall  some  of  the 
irony  of  Les  Provincialcs  with  regard  to  such  concep- 
tions. 

It  is  obvious  that  all  such  subtleties  presuppose  the 
idea  of  grace  as  a  force  sui  generis,  something  sent  by 

1  Gibson,    Thirty-vine   Articles,   p.    419. 

2  E.   L.    van   Becclaere  in   Enc.   Rel.   and  Ethics,  s.v,   "Grace   (Roman   Cath- 
olic)." 


V  THE  PSYCHOLOGY  OF  GRACE        183 

God  at  special  times  and  under  special  conditions.  No 
doubt  the  questions  they  raise  are  sometimes  of  real 
importance,  but  they  will  be  stated  very  differently 
when  grace  is  interpreted  in  terms  of  personal  influence. 
This  is  especially  the  case  with  the  problem  of  grace 
and  free-will.  In  our  parallels  from  human  experience 
we  found  a  blending  of  personalities,  of  the  pupil  with 
the  teacher,  the  violinist  with  the  conductor.  The 
learner  has  the  sense  of  being  in  the  grip  of  a  power 
higher  and  other  than  himself,  yet  it  is  he  who  acts, 
his  own  personality  transformed  and  enabled  by  that 
which  has  become  part  of  his  very  self.  So  it  is  with 
man  and  God:  "work  out  your  own  salvation,  for 
it  is  God  that  worketh  in  you."  But  there  is  no  sub- 
stitution of  the  divine  nature  for  the  human,  no  de- 
personalising of  man.  In  the  last  resort  each  must 
save  himself,  but  the  self  which  saves  is  a  different  self, 
a  self  delivered  from  the  bondage  of  corruption  and 
transformed  by  the  renewing  of  the  mind  through  the 
indwelling  Spirit  of  Christ.  No  doubt  the  ultimate 
philosophical  problem  remains  as  to  free-will,  predes- 
tination, God's  power  and  foreknowledge,  but  it  loses 
much  of  its  sting,  and  is  in  fact  solved  in  experience,  so 
soon  as  we  cease  to  regard  grace  as  a  force  introduced 
into  the  soul  ab  extra,  and  approach  it  from  the  point 
of  view  of  the  relation  of  personalities  to  one  another. 

Grace  as  God's  Undeserved  Favour 

Grace  is  often  defined  as  the  undeserved,  the  un- 
expected, favour  of  God,  and  the  idea  of  His  free  love 
and  undeserved  mercies  is  a  fundamental  element  in 
the  religious  instinct.  But  the  conception  has  often 
been  stated  in  a  way  which  is  artificial  and  repellent. 
It  is  held  that  God  as  creator  is  bound  to  give  His 
creatures  a  certain  degree  of  help  and  a  certain  pos- 
sibility of  happiness  hereafter,  such  a  vision  and  pos- 
session of  Himself  as  the  natural  man  can  desire  and 
appropriate.      But    "  by   a   munificent    and   gratuitous 


iS4  Till',  SlMRir  V 

decision  "  '  He  has  gone  beyond  His  bond  in  sending 
His  Son,  in  restoring  the  gift  of  supernatural  grace, 
and  in  fitting  some  men  for  the  supernatural  reward  of 
the  beatific  vision  itself,  (^r,  as  it  would  be  put  by 
the  older  Protestant  tlieology,  man  by  the  sin  which  is 
common  to  the  race  deserves  hell,  but  some  are  saved 
from  this  by  God's  special  and  unlooked-for  grace.  It 
is  as  though  hell  and  death  were  the  ruling  principles 
of  the  universe,  and  other  principles  of  life  and  salva- 
tion had  been  introduced  as  an  unexpected  afterthought. 
Such  statements  of  the  case  simply  provoke  objections 
in  the  spirit  of  Omar's  cry,  which  is  not  blasphemous 
but  ethical : 

Oh  Thou,  who  didst  with  pitfall  and  with  gin 
Beset  the  road  I  was  to  wander  in, 

Thou  wilt  not  with  Predestined  Evil  round 
Enmesh,  and  then  impute  my  fall  to  Sin ! 

Oh  Thou,  who  Man  of  baser  Earth  didst  make, 
And  ev'n  with  Paradise  devise  the  Snake, 

For  all  the  Sin  Avherewith  the  Face  of  Man 
Is  blackened  —  Man's   forgiveness  give  —  and   take! 

If  God  has  put  His  children  into  a  world  in  which  as 
a  matter  of  experience  they  all  inevitably  fall,  is  He 
not  bound  to  save  them?  The  fact  is  that  in  all  such 
ways  of  putting  the  case  we  are  in  the  grip  of  cramping 
and  mechanical  legal  analogies.  The  conception  is  of 
a  father  who  is  bound  by  law  to  provide  a  certain 
minimum  of  support  and  protection  for  his  children, 
but  is  not  bound  to  risk  his  life  to  save  them  from 
a  burning  house.  And  yet  if  he  is  a  true  father  he 
cannot  do  otherwise.  His  act  is  not  an  unexpected 
extra;  it  is  the  necessary  manifestation  of  his  character, 
the  inevitable  result  of  the  relationship  between  him 
and  his  children.  This  is  not  to  say  that  they  will 
take  it  as  a  matter  of  course  that  they  have  been  saved 

1  See  Enc.   of  Rel.   and  Ethics,  s.v.   "Grace   (Roman   Catholic),"   where  this 
point  of  view   is  stated   quite  clearly. 


V  THE  PSYCHOLOGY  OF  GRACE        185 

by  their  father's  devotion  and  suffering,  or  that  their 
gratitude  will  be  any  the  less,  but  the  point  is  that  where 
the  essence  of  the  relationship  is  love  we  cannot  argue 
on  the  basis  of  strict  and  limited  legal  requirements. 

We  must  not,  then,  split  up  God's  gifts  and  dealings 
with  men  into  two  classes,  saying  that  some  are  required 
by  an  implied  contract  between  the  Father  and  His 
children,  while  others  go  beyond  the  minimum  and  are 
something  added.  AH  He  does  and  gives  is  the  ex- 
pression of  His  love,  though  that  love  may  be  more 
clearly  seen  in  some  things  than  in  others.  We  could 
not  have  said  a  priori  that  this  love  would  go  so  far 
as  the  sharing  of  man's  sufferings,  but  once  this  has 
been  shown  it  is  understood  to  be  the  inevitable  out- 
come of  His  essential  nature;  He  too  could  do  no  other. 
This  way  of  looking  at  the  matter  really  heightens  our 
adoring  love  and  gratitude  first  for  what  He  is,  and 
then  for  what  He  does.  It  removes  it  from  the  sphere 
of  hard  legal  analogies  to  one  where  the  only  bond,  the 
only  compulsion,  is  that  of  mutual  love.  The  Cross 
and  the  offer  of  eternal  life  are  the  supreme  manifes- 
tations of  that  love,  and  they  reflect  back  on  all  the 
divine  dealings  with  us. 

This  is  the  real  principle  which  underlies  the  great 
Pauline  opposition  between  faith  and  works,  and  the 
insistence  on  salvation  as  the  free  gift  of  God.  Any- 
thing of  the  nature  of  a  debit  and  credit  account  be- 
tween man  and  God  is  as  much  out  of  place  as  it  is 
between  father  and  child,  or  husband  and  wife.  At  our 
best,  and  in  our  noblest  relationships,  we  do  not  deal 
with  one  another  on  any  such  basis,  nor  does  God  so 
deal  with  us,  or  we  with  God.  "  By  grace  are  ye 
saved,"  by  the  unstinted  sacrifice  and  self-giving  flow- 
ing inevitably  from  the  love  which  is  the  essence  of  the 
divine  nature,  just  as  the  devotion  of  the  mother,  even 
unto  death,  is  the  inevitable  expression  of  true  mother- 
hood. The  child  who  is  saved  does  not  ask  in  such 
a  case  whether  he  ticser\eti  it  or  not,  or  whether  she 


i86  THE  SPIRIT  v 

could  reasonably  ha\'e  omitted  the  sacrifice.  He  meets 
it  with  a  responsive  love  and  a  humility  which  resolves 
to  make  himself  worthy  of  it  and  of  her. 

Indeed,  the  best  safeguard  against  the  external  and 
legalistic  point  of  view  is  to  realise  that  grace  Is  not 
something  which  God  gives;  it  is  God  Himself  knock- 
ing at  the  door  of  the  soul  and  admitted  into  its  Inmost 
sanctuary.  Think  of  it  as  a  "  gift  "  which  Is  some- 
thing other  than  God,  and  there  is  always  the  danger 
of  self-seeking;  we  stumble  against  that  which  is  the 
most  subtle  obstacle  to  true  religion,  the  temptation 
to  use  God  for  our  own  purpose,  even  If  the  purpose 
be  the  salvation  of  our  soul.  We  must  learn  to  allow 
God  to  use  us;  it  Is  a  greater  thing  to  seek  Him  for  His 
own  sake  than  to  seek  the  highest  of  His  gifts  for  our 
own.  When  we  know  that  grace  Is  this  Intimate  re- 
lation between  the  soul  and  Him,  the  heart  is  flooded 
with  the  self-abandonment  and  devotion  of  the  lover; 
It  can  no  longer  think  In  terms  of  the  market-place  or 
law-court,  claiming  this  as  desert,  welcoming  that  as 
unmerited  favour. 

Conclusion 

We  have  tried  then  to  look  at  grace,  not  as  a  special 
force  Imparted  by  God  to  some  men,  under  certain 
conditions,  and  at  certain  times  and  for  certain  pur- 
poses, but  as  the  enhancement  of  personality  which 
is  the  constant  result  of  the  proper  relation  between 
the  divine  and  the  human  spirit.  We  believe  that 
there  is  In  all  men,  at  least  unless  they  have  quenched 
the  Spirit,  some  degree  of  personal  contact  with  Him, 
even  If  it  be  but  partial  and  unconscious.  Every  effort 
after  goodness,  however  faint,  implies  this  and  can  be 
ascribed  to  no  other  source.  The  differences  In  degree 
are  indeed  impressive  and  far-reaching,  just  as  the  dif- 
ferences in  the  standard  of  character  and  attainment 
vary  almost  beyond  measure.  These  differences  de- 
pend on  the  extent  to  which  we  let  God  In,  on  the  close- 


V  THE  PSYCHOLOGY  OF  GRACE        187 

ness  of  the  intercourse  between  our  Spirit  and  God. 
Let  it  be  repeated  that  such  a  view  is  not,  as  is  some- 
times supposed,  a  purely  "  subjective  "  view  of  religion, 
reducing  it  to  a  matter  of  what  we  think  or  feel. 
There  seems  to  be  a  wide-spread  impression  that  to  of- 
fer a  psychological  explanation  of  anything  is  equivalent 
to  treating  it  as  pure  imagination;  in  particular  that 
it  reduces  the  religious  experience  to  auto-suggestion 
from  our  "  better  self."  But  the  psychologist  is  free 
to  hold  that  there  is  Someone  there  whom  we  may 
come  to  know,  a  power  not  ourselves  on  which  he  may 
and  must  depend.  In  the  last  resort  the  difference 
between  one  man  and  another  must  turn  upon  the 
extent  to  which  he  opens  himself  to  the  divine  influence 
which  is  always  there,  available  in  Its  completeness 
for  every  child  of  God.  This  is  indeed  true  on  any 
view  of  the  nature  of  grace;  even  if  we  think  of  It 
under  the  old  picture  of  the  inexhaustible  reservoir  on 
which  we  are  to  draw,  it  depends  on  ourselves  how 
much  we  draw  and  how  often.  Few,  if  any,  will  deny 
that  the  divine  love  is  all-embracing,  and  that  it  is  for 
us  to  respond  to  it.  "According  to  your  faith  so  be  It 
done  unto  you  "  is  the  law  which  Christ  lays  down  as 
governing  the  relation  of  man  to  God  and  Himself, 
and  no  one  will  call  Christ's  doctrine  of  faith,  or  St. 
Paul's,  purely  subjective. 

It  is  further  important  to  remind  ourselves  that  the 
reality  and  closeness  of  our  contact  with  the  Divine 
Personality  does  not  depend  on,  or  always  vary  very 
closely  with,  our  emotional  sense  of  this  contact. 
Where  it  is  at  its  highest  there  is  indeed,  as  we  have 
seen,  always  some  deliberate  recognition  of  God,  some- 
thing which  may  be  called  a  sense  of  His  presence.  But 
this  is  not  dependent  on  any  emotional  thrill;  it  is 
rather  the  ticlibcratc  orientation  of  the  will  Godward. 
And  His  influence  may  be  very  real,  even  where  there 
Is  but  little  consciousness  of  it.  It  sometimes  happens 
that  vvc  arc  profountily  aflectcd  by  scenery,  pictures, 


i88  THE  SPIRIT  V 

or  books,  while  liardly  conscious  at  the  time  of  the 
intliience  they  arc  cxcrtinj^  on  us.  In  our  psycho- 
logical parallels  the  supreme  influence  of  the  great 
teacher  or  the  good  friend,  stealing  into  the  inmost 
depths  of  our  being,  is  not  always  recognised  till  years 
after.  And  so  the  reality  of  our  communion  with  Ciod 
—  and  this  is  especially  to  be  remembered  in  connection 
with  the  Eucharist  —  does  not  stand  or  fall  with  the 
extent  to  which  we  can  honestly  sav  that  we  realise  or 
feel  His  presence.  The  final  test  of  such  communion 
is  to  be  found  in  its  effects  on  the  life  and  character. 
"  No  man  hath  beheld  God  at  any  time :  if  we  love  one 
another,  God  abideth  in  us,  and  his  love  is  perfected 
in  us :  hereby  know  we  that  we  abide  in  him  and  he  In 
us,  because  he  hath  given  us  of  his  Spirit."  If  a  man 
is  growing  like  God  and  Christ,  it  can  only  be  because 
he  is  in  a  vital  relation  with  the  Divine  Spirit.  This 
relation  will  at  its  highest  bring  with  it  at  times  a 
real  awareness  of  God,  yet  it  may  also  be  completely 
independent  of  anything  of  the  nature  of  emotional 
thrills.  And  if  it  be  asked  what  may  be  the  full  results 
of  such  relation,  we  can  only  reply  that  they  are,  in  the 
moral  sphere  as  in  others,  limitless.  It  draws  out  the 
hidden  capacities  of  human  nature  at  its  best,  and  that 
nature  is  in  its  essence  divine.  It  is  when  St.  Paul 
thinks  of  his  converts  as  strengthened  with  power 
through  the  Spirit  of  God  in  the  inner  man,  of  Christ 
as  dwelling  in  their  hearts  through  faith,  that  he  bursts 
out  into  his  cry  of  praise  "  to  him  who  is  able  to  do 
exceeding  abundantly  above  all  that  we  ask  or  think, 
according  to  the  power  that  worketh  in  us."  For  this 
power  is  not  an  effluence  or  an  influence,  not  a  force 
or  a  gift  from  God;  it  is  Christ  Himself,  present  in 
us  through  His  Spirit. 


V  THE  PSYCHOLOGY  OF  GRACE        189 

DETACHED  NOTE  A 
The  Meaning  of  Grace  in  the  New  Testament 

"  Grace  "  has  come  to  mean,  both  in  technical  and  in 
popular  theology,  a  specific  power  or  help  granted  by 
God  to  man,  usually  in  order  to  resist  temptation  and 
to  do  what  is  right.  But  this  is  not  the  ordinary 
meaning  of  x<V'S  the  Greek  term  which  is  translated 
"  grace,"  either  in  the  Septuagint  or  in  the  New  Testa- 
ment. In  the  former  it  is  usually  the  translation  of 
the  Hebrew  hen,  or  favour,  and  the  same  idea  is 
primary  in  the  New  Testament  usage.  Grace  is  a 
characteristic  of  God,  something  He  feels  or  shows 
to  man;  the  nearest  equivalents  are  loving-kindness  or 
mercy.  It  will  be  found  that  in  most  of  the  New 
Testament  passages  some  such  word  can  always  be 
substituted  for  the  English  "  grace."  It  is  noteworthy 
that  the  Tzventieth  Century  New  Testament,  in  fact, 
uses  these  or  similar  translations  and  avoids  grace  alto- 
gether. "  By  grace  ye  are  saved  "  becomes  "  By  God's 
loving-kindness  you  have  been  saved." 

The  term  x'^P'^  is  not  found  in  Matthew  or  Mark; 
it  is  rare  in  the  Johannine  writings,  and  is  most  fre- 
quent in  Luke  and  Paul;  in  other  words,  it  belongs, 
especially  in  its  theological  use,  to  the  specifically 
Pauline  vocabulary.  God's  loving-kindness  has  been 
shown  pre-emmently  by  the  gift  of  forgiveness  and 
salvation  through  Christ,  and  in  St.  Paul  x^-P'-'^  is  spe- 
cially connected  with  the  extension  of  these  to  the 
Gentiles.'  Hence,  besides  denoting  the  loving-kind- 
ness of  God,  it  sometimes  denotes  the  gifts  which  come 
from  that  loving-kindness  (i  Cor.  iii.  10;  2  Cor.  vi.  i). 
In  such  a  passage  as  Acts  viii.  8  (Stephen  "  full  of 
grace  "),  it  is  doubtful  whether  the  meaning  is  to  be 
looked  for  in  this  direction  or  rather  in  the  classical 
sense  of  charm  or  attractiveness.      But  for  our  purpose 

1  See  on   this  point  J.    A.    Robinson,  St.  Paul's  Epistle  to  the  Ephesians,   pp. 
22  1    fl. 


I90  THE  SPIRl  r  V 

it  is  not  necessary  to  discuss  the  details  and  shades  of 
the  actual  use;  the  point  is  that  with  all  its  varieties  it 
does  not  include  the  modern  technical  sense.  "  The 
later  technical  use  [of  grace],  esp.  of  the  Latin  gratia, 
for  the  divine  prompting  and  help  which  precedes  and 
accompanies  right  action  does  not  correspond  exactly 
to  the  usage  of  N.T."  '  And  in  particular  we  never 
find  in  its  pages  phrases  such  as  "  means  "  or  "  chan- 
nels "  of  grace,  or  any  conception  of  different  kinds  of 
grace,  e.g.  sacramental  and  other. 

We  may  note  one  or  two  passages  which  come  near- 
est to  the  modern  usage. 

1  Cor.  XV.  lo,  "  By  the  grace  of  God  I  am  what  I 
am";  i.e.  by  his  loving  mercy. 

2  Cor  xii.  9,  "  My  grace  is  sufficient  for  thee  ";  i.e. 
he  can  trust  in  God's  love  and  mercy.  But  note 
*'  strength  "  in  the  parallel  clause,  which  easily  paves 
the  way  for  the  later  usage. 

Heb.  iv.  1 6,  "  Come  with  boldness  to  the  throne  of 
grace";  cf.  "throne  of  glory";  the  throne  where 
grace  or  mercy  sits  enthroned,  not  where  "  grace  "  is 
dispensed.  The  meaning  in  this  clause  determines  the 
following  words,   "  find  grace." 

James  iv.  6,  "  Giveth  greater  grace,"  i.e  greater 
acceptance  than  the  world  or  its  friendship;  cf.  the 
quotation  from  Prov.  iii.  34  which  follows;  see  Hort, 
Epistle  of  St.  James,  ad  he. 

I  Peter  iv.  10,  "  As  good  stewards  of  the  manifold 
grace  of  God";  this  is  nearest  to  the  modern  use, 
suggesting  a  store  which  is  to  be  dispensed,  though  the 
reference  in  the  context  is  to  specific  endowments. 

Such  passages  are  transitional;  taken  alone  they 
might  be  interpreted  in  the  modern  sense,  but  it  is 
clear  that  their  strict  exegesis  must  be  determined  by 
the  general  use  of  x'lp'-'^  in  the  New  Testament. 

1  Sanday   and   Headlam,   Romans,   p.    ii. 


V  THE  PSYCHOLOGY  OF  GRACE        191 

DETACHED  NOTE  B 
The  Concrete  Meaning  of  "  Gratia  " 

The  change  of  meaning  in  the  Latin  gratia,  from 
an  abstract  quality  to  the  concrete  expression  of  that 
quality,  may  be  paralleled  from  the  history  of  the 
word  Uberalitas.  Imperial  coins  bear  the  inscription 
Liberalitas  Aitgusti,  celebrating  the  generosity  of  the 
Emperor  as  a  quality,  just  as  they  celebrate  his  piety 
or  clemency.  The  usual  type  is  a  female  figure  with 
a  cornucopia.  But  other  types  are  found  with  an 
elaborate  composition  representing  the  Emperor  dis- 
tributing a  congiarium,  or  largess.  And  successive 
congiaria  are  enumerated  on  coins  with  the  inscription 
Liberalitas  Augusti  II,  III,  etc.,  for  which  Congiarium 
Augusti  II,  etc.,  is  sometimes  found.  That  is  to  say, 
liberalitas  has  come  to  have  the  concrete  meaning  of 
"  the  gift  bestowed,"  equivalent  to  congiarium.  See 
also  Tacitus,  Hist.  i.  20,  "  decuma  parte  liberalitatis 
apud  quemque  eorum  relicta." 

For  the  substance  of  this  note  I  am  indebted  to  the 
kindness  of  the  Rev.  C.  H.  Dodd  of  Mansfield  College, 
Oxford. 


VI 

THE  PSYCHOLOGY  OF  INSPIRATION 
HOW  GOD  TEACHES 

BY 

C.  W.  EMMET,  B.D. 


ANALYSIS 

Ikspiration  and  Grace. —  Tlic  (luestion  with  Inspiration,  as  with 
Grace,  is  of  the  influence  of  the  Divine  Personalit>'  on  the  human.  The 
parallel  between  the  two  cases. 

The  Desire  for  a  special  Method  of  Revelation. —  The  primitive 
identification  of  inspiration  with  the  psychically  abnormal;  the  modern 
identification  with  what  is  psychologically  inexplicable.  Dr.  Hamil- 
ton's view  of  the  origin  of  the  Hebrew  belief  in  monotheism.  The 
distinction  between  "  Revelation  "  and  "  revelation  "  untenable.  God 
revealed  in  nature.  The  belief  in  immortality  due  to  a  diffused 
popular  inspiration. 

The  Flash  of  Discovery. —  Boy  calculators.  The  conscious  and 
subconscious  preparation  for  what  seems  the  spontaneous  intuition; 
examples.     The  principle  applied  to  the  prophets. 

The  Sense  of  Otherness. —  Examples.  The  conviction  not  in  itself 
a  guarantee  of  truth;  Nietzsche;  H.  G.  Wells.  The  parallel  with 
grace;  intermingling  of  the  divine  and  human. 

The  Test  of  Inspiration. —  The  criterion  the  truth  of  the  message, 
not  the  method  of  revelation.  The  responsibility  of  judging  for  our- 
selves.    The  instinct  of  selection  to  which  we  owe  the  Bible. 

The  unexplained  Residuum. —  Discovery,  or  revelation,  dependent 
on  man's  response.  W'hy  does  one  respond,  while  another  does  not? 
The  unexplained  personal  factor  always  present.  God  not  to  be  sought 
in  the  gaps. 

Inspiration  and  Communion  with  God. —  The  underlying  condition 
always  contact  with  the  Divine,  though  this  cannot  be  used  as  the 
primary  criterion  of  truth.     The  supreme  inspiration  of  Christ. 

The  Inspiration  of  the  ordinary  Man. —  Inspiration  in  the  last 
resort  not  peculiar  to  a  few  or  confined  to  the  sphere  of  religion.  The 
danger  and  the  value  of  individual  intuitions. 


VI 

THE  PSYCHOLOGY  OF  INSPIRATION: 
HOW  GOD  TEACHES 

Inspiration  and  Grace 

We  have  been  discussing  the  question  how  God  helps 
us,  and  have  tried  to  find  the  key  in  the  relation  of  the 
Divine  Personality  to  the  human,  interpreted  on  the 
lines,  though  not  within  the  limits,  of  the  relation  of 
human  personalities  to  one  another.  We  may  now 
apply  the  same  key  to  the  problem  of  how  God  teaches 
us.  Our  illustration  of  what  happens  as  between  mas- 
ter and  pupil  has  obvious  bearings  on  the  question  of 
Inspiration.  We  have  found  that  the  secret  is  the 
action  of  mind  upon  mind,  not  only  by  the  directi 
methods  of  speech  and  Instruction,  but  most  of  all 
through  the  more  subtle  gift  of  personal  influence.' 
The  result  is  the  inspiration  of  the  pupil,  whether  for 
conduct  or  for  creative  thought,  the  enhancement  of 
his  personality  to  a  degree  which  could  not  have  come 
otherwise.  This  inspiration  often  comes  suddenly 
and  mysteriously,  sometimes  In  ways  hard  to  account 
for;  It  brings  with  it  In  a  true  sense  the  embodiment 
of  the  teacher's  Idea  and  spirit.  But  this  spirit  has 
been  blended  with  the  pupil's  spirit;  it  has  not  dis- 
lodged it  or  taken  its  place.  It  does  not  in  any  way 
supersede  the  need  for  study  and  personal  effort.  The 
idea  has  become  the  pupil's,  and  in  the  expression  of 
it  there  Is  always  something  individual,  whether  for 
better  or  for  worse. 

If  we  keep  his  point  of  \"iew  clearly  before  our  minds 
wc  shall  be  saved  from  the  fundamental  misconceptions 
which  have  often  vitiated  the  popular  Ideas  of  inspira- 
tion in  the  past.      It  Is  persons  who  are  Inspired,  not 


196  THE  SPIRIT  VI 

books.  No  doubt  it  is  perfectly  legitimate  to  transfer 
the  epithet  and  to  speak  of  an  "  inspired  "  poem  or 
piece  of  music;  but  we  must  never  allow  ourselves  to 
forget  that  such  a  use  of  the  term  is  secondary.  In- 
spiration is  the  quickening  of  vision,  the  enhancement 
of  the  personality,  which  can  only  come  to  a  person. 
The  distinction  is  not  merely  verbal;  it  excludes  at  once 
any  notion  of  a  message  or  book  of  which  the  words 
have  simply  been  miraculously  dictated.  We  shall 
therefore  approach  the  problem  of  inspiration  from 
the  side  of  psychology  and  personality.  However  it 
comes  and  however  it  w'orks,  it  is  the  result  of  the  in- 
fluence of  the  Divine  Spirit  upon  the  human. 

Speaking  generally,  we  shall  find  that  the  principles 
which  we  have  discussed  in  our  treatment  of  grace  will 
hold  good  here  too.  On  the  one  hand  we  insist  on 
the  university  and  the  continuity  of  the  creative  work- 
ing of  the  Divine  Spirit.  If  He  is  always  and  every- 
where helping  and  raising  man,  He  is  also  always 
teaching  him.  Any  discovery  of  the  good,  the  true, 
the  beautiful,  can  only  come  as  the  result  of  God's 
revelation  of  Himself  and  His  works  to  the  mind  of 
man.  The  inventor,  the  thinker,  the  artist,  in  what- 
ever medium,  is  inspired  in  so  far  as  his  thoughts  and 
the  expression  of  them  correspond  to  the  divine 
thought.  But  on  the  other  hand,  while  we  refuse  to 
draw  a  sharp  line  between  divine  inspiration  and  hu- 
man discovery,  just  as  we  refused  to  draw  it  between 
natural  and  supernatural  goodness,  we  must  not  ig- 
nore the  supreme  importance  of  the  difference  of  the 
degree  in  which  men,  whether  in  science,  or  in  art,  or  in 
religion,  do  succeed  in  entering  into  the  mind  of  God. 
As  with  goodness,  so  with  beauty  and  truth,  the  ap- 
propriation and  expression  of  that  mind  may  be  un- 
conscious, commonplace,  partial,  or  it  may  rise  to 
heights  of  genius.  The  barriers  of  sin  and  self-will,  of 
blindness  and  ignorance,  are  abiding  facts  which  need 
to  be  taken  very  seriously  in  this  context  as  in  the 
other. 


VI        PSYCHOLOGY  OF  INSPIRATION       197 

The  Desire  for  a  Special  Method  of 
Revelation 

The  question,  however,  at  once  arises,  Can  we  dis- 
cover any  criterion  as  to  the  degree  of  inspiration  — 
in  other  words,  of  the  closeness  of  communion  with  the 
Divine  Spirit  —  in  any  giv^en  case,  and  the  amount  of 
truth  in  the  result  as  expressed  in  word  or  art?  The 
purpose  of  this  essay  is  to  suggest  that  this  criterion  is  ^ 
in  no  way  dependent  on  any  one  partPcular  mode  of 
discovery  or  revelation.  In  quite  primitive  times  in-^ 
spiration  was  connected  with  what  is  psychically  ab- 
normal, the  dream  or  trance,  ecstasy  or  frenzy,  where! 
the  human  reason  is  at  its  lowest.  Such  a  position  has 
long  been  abandoned.  The  time  has  passed  when 
men  could  agree  with  Tertullian  in  holding  that  "  the 
majority  of  men  learn  God  from  visions,"  or  when 
an  ignorant  peasant  could  be  made  patriarch  of  an 
important  see  in  obedience  to  a  dream  of  his  dying 
predecessor.^  Studies  of  psychical  phenomena, 
whether  in  trance  or  in  automatic  speech  and  writing, 
prove  conclusively  that,  even  if  such  methods  may  some- 
times be  a  channel  of  truth,  they  are  in  no  possible 
sense  a  guarantee  of  truth,  or  the  necessary  accompan- 
iments of  the  highest  types  of  revelation.  But  old  de- \  S 
lusions  die  hard.  There  are  still  those  who  would 
make  the  extent  of  the  revelation  depend  on  the  degree 
to  which  it  is  psychologically  unintelligible.  Is  the 
message  unexpected?  Has  it  come  by  a  sudden  in- 
tuition? Is  it  apparently  inexplicable  as  the  result  of 
previous  study  and  reflection?  If  so,  it  is  suggested, 
we  have  at  last  evidence  of  a  direct  self-revelation  of 
God.  The  idea  of  the  verbal  infallibility  of  Scripture 
is  dead,  not  so  its  chief  presupposition,  that  somehow 
revelation  must  be  the  imparting  of  correct  informa- 
tion, and  inspiration  the  power  of  receiving  it.  Andj' 
so  attempts  are  still  made,  even  by  those  who  claim  to 
accept  the  modern  view  of  inspiration,  to  vindicate  a 

1  Sec  Inge,  Christian  Mysticism,  p.   16. 


198  THE  SPIRIT  VI 

special  position  and  audiorlty  for  the  Bible,  based  not 
on  Its  inherent  truth  and  Intrinsic  appeal,  but  on  some- 
thing which  can  he  regarded  as  unique  In  the  manner 
of  Its  composition.  It  must  at  all  costs  be  given  a 
special  status  In  a  class  by  Itself,  different  In  kind,  not 
only  in  degree,  from  all  other  books. 

A  typical  example  of  such  an  attempt  may  be  found 
In  a  comparatively  recent  book,  Dr.  Hamilton's  The 
People  of  God.  lie  argues  that  the  monotheism  of 
the  Hebrew  prophets  (/.  e.  their  belief  that  Jehovah  is 
the  sole  God  of  the  world,  opposed  to  the  older  Idea 
that  He  was  the  God  of  the  Hebrews)  was  due  to  a 
special  self-revelation  of  God.  It  cannot,  he  urges,  be 
explained  as  the  result  of  environment,  or  reflection  on 
the  facts  of  life  and  history,  or  intellectual  dialectic. 
Its  origin  Is  quite  different  to  that  of  the  Greek  philoso- 
phical monotheism,  and  can  only  be[accounted  for  by  an 
inner  spiritual  experience  In  which  God  manifested 
Himself  directly  and  immediately  by  a  mode  confined 
to  one  race.  In  the  same  way  A.  Sabatler  has  main- 
tained that  the  new  and  critical  ideas  in  the  history 
of  religion  —  the  unity  of  God,  His  Fatherhood,  and 
the  Brotherhood  of  man  —  cannot  be  explained  as  due 
to  Inference  or  reflection;  they  must  be  regarded  as  due 
to  an  Immediate  revelation.^  Dr.  Hamilton  therefore 
draws  a  sharp  distinction  between  discovery  and  Revela- 
tion, or  between  revelation  with  a  small  and  Revelation 
with  a  large  "  R":  "  (j*evelation  '  means  the  knowl- 
/edge  about  God  which  man  derives  from  reflection  on 
the  facts  of  existence,  and  would  perhaps  be  better 
called  '  human  discovery.'  'Revelation  '  stands  for  a 
knowledge  of  God  given  directly  to  man  by  God  Him- 
self, and  not  mediated  through  reflection  on  the  nature 
of  existence.  ...  In  the  one  case  man  arrives  at  a 
knowledge  of  God's  existence  and  character  by  a  slow 
and  painful  process  of  endeavouring  to  solve  the  riddle 
of  existence;  in  the  other  case  this  knowledge  comes 

1  See  Rashdall,  Philosophy  and  Religion,  p.   115. 


VI         PSYCHOLOGY  OF  INSPIRATION       199 

directly  without  being  mediated  through  such  a  process 
of  reflection."  ^ 

Not  for  a  moment  would  we  quarrel  with  the  po- 
sition that  the  prophetic  insistence  on  Jehovah  as  the 
one  God  is  an  outstanding  example  of  inspiration,  or 
revelation,  at  its  highest,  though  Dr.  Hamilton's  view 
of  the  uniqueness  of  the  Hebrew  monotheism  is  open  to 
some  question.  What  we  have  to  ask  is  whether  there  \ 
is  a  special  channel  and  type  of  Revelation  in  an  ex- 
clusive sense,  confined  to  one  race  and  religion.  How 
far  is  it  true  that  certain  truths  are  directly  revealed 
by  God,  while  others  are  discovered  by  man  through 
the  exercise  of  his  own  reason? 

In  the  first  place,  let  us  consider  the  suggested  dis- 
tinction between  "  Revelation  "  and  "  revelation." 
Dr.  Hamilton  himself  seems  to  have  some  difficulty  in 
drawing  the  line  as  sharply  as  he  suggests.  For  be- 
tween the  two  sentences  just  quoted  comes  another 
which,  carefully  considered,  endangers  his  whole  posi- 
tion. "  The  dividing  line  between  Revelation  and 
revelation  is  not  that  the  former  is  God's  effort  to  seek 
after  man  and  the  latter  man's  effort  to  seek  after  God; 
for  we  do  not  know  that  the  Eternal  Spirit  is  not  seek- 
ing to  disclose  Himself  to  man  through  his  own  pow- 
ers of  observation  and  reflection."  Here  precisely  is 
the  crux.  As  we  have  already  suggested,  all  discov- 
ery is  in  the  end  revelation,  Man  is  seeking,  God  is' 
revealing,  always  and  by  many  channels.  In  all 
progress  of  thought,  in  all  approach  to  the  fuller 
knowledge  of  the  good,  the  true,  and  the  beautiful, 
there  is  some  contact  between  the  divine  and  human 
personalities.  lo  the  Christian  there  can  be  no  other 
source  of  truth.  1  he  difference  between  one  man  and^ 
another  is  a  difference  of  insight  and  of  nearness;  in 
some  the  divine  is  clogged,  in  others  it  flows  freely. 
We  have  tended  to  treat  discovery  as  active  at  the" 
human  end  and  passive  at  the  divine,  while  with  revcla-| 

1  Of.  cit.  i.   165. 


200      PSYCHOLOGY  OF  INSPIRATION  vi 

tion  wo  h;n  c  reversed  the  roles.  Discovery  is  re- 
garded as  a  processs  in  which  man  looks  through  the 
telescope  antl  the  tli\ine  is  simply  seen.  In  Revela- 
tion Ciod  is  thought  of  as  speaking  through  the  tele- 
phone, while  man  has  only  to  listen.  The  reality  is 
always  a  blending  of  the  two:  man  both  hears  and 
sees;  God  both  speaks  and  makes  Himself  seen.  No 
doubt  there  are  differences  of  method,  diversities  of 
operation,  but  one  and  the  self-same  Spirit  is  at  work 
in  all.  There  is  the  desire  to  discover  truth,  beauty, 
and  moral  goodness,  and  to  express  them  in  word,  art, 
or  conduct;  there  is  the  seeking  for  the  divine  fellow- 
ship in  prayer  and  meditation;  there  are  immediate  in- 
tuitions bringing  with  them  a  direct  sense  of  His  pres- 
ence. But  can  we  ultimately  separate  sharply  between 
them,  labelling  some  discovery  and  others  Revelation? 
Are  not  most  of  them  found  in  varying  proportions  in 
the  same  persons,  and  in  all  their  activities? 

Again,  it  cannot  be  denied  that  there  comes  to  many 
a  sense  of  direct  contact  with  God  through  nature. 
Dr.  Hamilton  would  regard  this  as  "  revelation  "  or 
discovery,  a  means  of  getting  to  know  about  God  by 
our  own  efforts,  but  such  a  position  is  simply  untrue  to 
the  experience  of  nature-mystics  and  poets  of  all  ages, 
as  well  as  to  that  of  many  plain  men  and  women  who 
claim  to  find  here  a  personal  communion  with  the 
Divine.^  While  we  reserve  the  right  to  analyse  such 
experiences,  and  to  distinguish  between  the  psycho- 
logical fact  and  its  supposed  content  and  expression, 
we  must  accept  them  as  valid  so  far  as  they  go,  pre- 
cisely as  w'C  accept  the  fact  of  religious  experiences  in 
the  narrower  sense.  And  it  is  worth  adding  that  this 
experience  of  God  through  nature  is  of  two  kinds. 
There  is  the  case  of  those  who  have  already  found 
God  through  the  more  usual  religious  channels,  and 
then  go  on  to  find  Him  in  the  world  without.  But 
there  are  also  others  to  whom  nature  is  the  primary, 

1  Sec  Illingworth,  Divine  Immanence,  chap,  ii.,  and  Inge,  Christian  Mysticism, 
chaps,  vii.,  viii. ;  also  the  essay  in  this  volume  on  "  Spiritual  Experience." 


VI         PSYCHOLOGY  OF  INSPIR.\TION       201 

and  even   to  the   end  of  the  predominant,   means  of 
communion    with    Him.      One    result    of    such    com- 
munion,   here   as   elsewhere,    is   Inspiration   or   vision. 
We  need  not  discuss  whether  Wordsworth  is  more  orl 
less  inspired  than  some  of  the  Biblical  writers,  but  we} 
are  concerned  to  maintain  that  God  does  reveal  Him-| 
self  through  nature,  and  that  so  far  as  He  does  so  thej 
result  is  a  knowledge  of  divine  truth  and  beauty. 

Let  it  be  repeated  that  we  do  not  wish  in  any  way 
to  deny  or  undervalue  the  reality  or  the  significance  of 
the  personal  experience  of  the  p^rophets.  What  we  are 
asking  is  -whether  that  experience  is  peculiar  to  them 
and  is  the  unique  method  by  which  God  reveals  new 
truths  about  Himself.  Even  in  the  field  of  religion 
itself  we  may  find  important  truths  which  have  not 
come  through  the  special  channel  which  is  regarded  as 
the  peculiar  vehicle  of  Revelation.  At  least  as  won- 
derful as  the  original  discovery  of  monotheism  by  a 
few  chosen  spirits  (the  prophets)  is  what  happened 
after  the  exile  in  regard  to  the  belief  in  Immortality 
—  the  emergence  of  which  is,  equally  with  monotheism, 
a  crucial  stage  in  the  history  of  revelation.  In  the 
later  books  of  the  Old  Testament,  in  the  Apocrypha 
and  the  Apocalyptic  literature,  we  can  trace  the  stages 
of  its  growth,  here  a  little  and  there  a  little.  It  can- 
not be  claimed  as  the  outcome  of  some  outstanding 
revelation  to  one  or  two  favoured  seers.  Those  to 
whom  we  owe  it  do  not  seem  to  have  been  men  of  any 
conspicuous  religious  or  literary  genius.  Their  very 
names  are  unknown,  and  in  most  cases  their  writings 
have  only  survived  by  accident  and  in  translations. 
Yet  under  the  pressure  of  experience  the  belief  gradu- 
ally emerged  till  it  became  so  strong  that  Christ  and 
His  Apostles  could  take  it  for  granted.  And  up  to  a 
point  we  can  sec  why  this  happened.  The  okl  view 
that  earthly  happiness  correspomleti  to  desert  was  in- 
creasingly contradicted  by  facts;  there  was  a  ^rowiiiir 
sense  of  personality   which  both   looked    tor   the  per- 


202  THE  SPIRIT  VI 

mancnce  of  that  communion  with  God  which  had  been 
felt  to  be  the  highest  thing  in  Hfe,  and  also  refused  to 
be  satisfied  with  some  glorious  future  for  the  nation, 
receding  ever  further  and  further,  in  which  generation 
after  generation  of  faithful  souls  was  to  have  no  per- 
sonal share.  There  was  also  a  closer  contact  with 
other  religions,  especially  Zoroastrianism,  in  which  the 
belief  in  a  life  after  death  played  a  large  part.  The 
growth  of  the  belief  among  the  Jews  thus  becomes 
psychologically  intelligible;  none  the  less  it  marks  an 
epoch  in  religious  history.  It  Is  due  not  to  any  unique 
self-revelation  of  God  but  to  a  diffused  popular  in- 
spiration, shared  by  more  than  one  race. 

The  Flash  of  Discovery 

To  the  Hebrew  prophet  the  "  word  of  the  Lord  " 
seems  often  to  have  come  as  suddenly  and  Inexplicably 
as  lightning  from  a  clear  sky.  But,  we  must  ask,  is 
the  mere  fact  of  suddenness  or  psychological  unin- 
telllgibility  /;/  itself  a  criterion  of  a  special  revelation  of 
Ithe  highest  truth,  or  even  of  truth  at  all?  The  most 
startling  examples  of  kngiyledge  flashed  Into  the  mind 
by  a  process  which  is  at  present  Inexplicable  are  to  be 
found  In  the  boy  calculators,  who  solve  the  most  com- 
plicated arithmetical  problems  In  a  moment  by  a  kind 
of  Intuition.^  Or  we  may  instance  the  perfectly 
authenticated  faculty  of  water-finding,  whereby  certain 
persons  can  discover  water  at  some  depth  by  the 
twitching  of  a  twig  In  the  hands  as  they  walk  over  the 

1  Examples  may  be  seen  in  Myers's  Human  Personalityj^pp.  64  ff. ;  or  we  may 
instance  the  following  account  of  the  powers  of  a  Tamil  boy:  "  Representatives 
of  the  Ceylon  Department  of  Education  had  prepared  a  series  of  complicated 
sums.  Each  of  these  he  answered  within  a  few  seconds.  One  sum  was: 
'  A  chetty  gave  as  a  treat  to  173  persons  a  bushel  of  rice  each.  Each  bushel 
contained  3,431,272  grains,  and  the  chetty  stipulated  that  17  per  cent  should 
be  given  to  the  temple.  How  many  grains  did  the  temi)le  get?  '  Within 
three  seconds  came  the  answer  (which  had  to  be  translated):  100,913,709, 
with  52  as  the  fraction  over.  The  boy  was  told  that  the  answer  should  be 
100,913,719.  He  shook  his  head,  and  though  the  sum  was  several  times 
repeated  to  him  maintained  he  was  right.  The  Education  Department  repre- 
sentative the  next  day  had  to  admit  that  he  had  miscopied  the  answer,  and  had 
also  omitted  the  fractional  part  in  the  copy  he  had  made. 

"  In  some  cases  hardly  had  the  last  word  of  the  interpretation  of  the  sum 
been  uttered  before  the  correct  reply  was  begun  "  (The  Times,  October  1,  1912). 


VI         PSYCHOLOGY  OF  INSPIRATION       203 

ground.  In  such  cases  the  results  have  not  been  pre- 
pared for  by  previous  study;  they  are  immediate  and 
inexplicable,  and  not  due  to  conscious  reflection.  No 
doubt  these  faculties  are  valuable,  and  do  give  us  some- 
thing which  is  true  and  therefore  in  its  measure  divine, 
but  they  are  concerned  with  comparatively  low  grades 
of  truth,  and  no  one  would  argue  that  they  are  due  to 
a  special  self-revelation  of  God.  1 

When,  however,  we  examine  their  experiences  we  see 
good  reason  to  doubt  whether  the  direct  revelation 
which  is  claimed  for  the  prophets  is  either  so  inex- 
plicable or  so  independent  of  the  ordinary  human 
means  of  discovery  as  at  first  sight  appears.  Modern 
psychology  by  its  analysis  both  of  the  phenomenon  of 
religious  conversion  and  of  the  process  of  discov^ery 
and  artistic  production  has  thrown  much  light  on  the 
whole  subject.  What  seems  the  spontaneous,  unex-/ 
plicable  flash  is  shown  to  be  in  fact  the  outcome,  emerg-  \ 
ing  into  consciousness,  of  a  long  period  of  subconscious  \ 
reflection  on  material  which  the  conscious  mind  has  I 
supplied.  A  good  illustration  is  afforded  by  the  ' 
dreams  of  Professor  Hilprecht.^  He  went  to  bed  on 
one  occasion  after  a  hard  spell  of  work  on  the  trans- 
lation of  an  Assyrian  stone,  of  which  he  had  assumed 
a  false  interpretation,  and  awoke  in  the  morning  with 
a  new  translation  in  his  mind  which  turned  out  to  be 
correct.  He  had  a  dim  consciouness  of  having  con- 
tinued his  work  in  a  dream.  Much  more  remarkable 
is  his  account  of  a  dream  in  which  a  priest  of  Nippur 
leads  him  to  the  treasure-chamber  of  a  temple  and  ex- 
plains to  him  the  history  of  two  fragments  of  agate 
which  he  had  been  studying  from  a  sketch,  telling  him 
how  they  may  be  fitted  together  and  the  inscription 
deciphered.  He  had  had  no  idea  that  the  two  frag- 
ments were  in  fact  connected,  since  they  were  described 
as  being  of  different  colours,  but  the  "  revelation  "  was 
found   to  be   absolutely  accurate  in   all   verifiable  par- 

1  See  \fyerit,  ffuman  Ptrsonality,  pp.  365   fT.   (one  vol.  edition). 


204  THE  SPIRIT  vi 

ticulars,  and  entirely  probable  in  the  parts  where  proof 
was  no  longer  possible.  The  point  to  note  is  "  that 
not  one  of  these  items  of  information  was  beyond  the 
reach  of  the  processes  of  associative  reasoning  which 
Professor  Hilprecht  daily  employs."  In  each  case  the 
final  solution  of  the  problem,  coming  in  this  dramatic 
and  unexpected  way,  appears  to  have  been  the  crystal- 
lising, or  precipitate,  of  weeks  of  apparently  fruitless 
study.  In  particular  he  uses  in  his  second  dream  a 
piece  of  information  given  to  him  some  years  pre- 
viously by  a  friend  and  entirely  forgotten  by  his  waking 
mind. 

Numerous  illustrations  of  such  subconscious  men- 
tation, following  hard  and  sometimes  apparently 
fruitless  thinking,  may  be  found  in  the  realms  of  literr 
ature  and  art.^  A  contemporary  instance  is  Donald 
Hankey's  description  of  his  writing  of  The  Lord  of  All 
Good  Life:  "  I  would  have  you  realise  that  it  was 
written  spontaneously,  in  a  burst,  in  six  weeks.  .  .  . 
I  had  tried  and  tried,  but  without  success.  Then  sud- 
denly everything  cleared  up.  To  myself  the  writing  of 
it  was  an  illumination."  ^  Most  quite  ordinary  work- 
ers will  in  fact  be  able  to  illustrate  from  their  own 
knowledge  this  experience  of  the  sudden  solution  of  a 
difficulty  long  pondered  over  in  vain,  of  the  apparently 
spontaneous  arrangement  of  a  complicated  train  of 
thought,  often  after  the  problem  has  been  laid  aside  for 
some  time,  or  of  the  flashing  into  the  mind  of  the 
artistic  or  literary  inspiration.  They  will  understand 
how  these  things  come  with  a  sense  of  mysterious  au- 
thority, as  though  from  some  source  outside  them- 
selves. But  they  will  also  know  that  the  result  is  al- 
ways the  outcome  of  the  work  and  effort  which  have 

1  See,  e.g.,  Myers,  Human  Personality,  p.  71  (one  vol.  edition).  F.  B.  Bond 
{The  Gate  of  Remembrance,  p.  48)  gives  a  remarkable  example  of  a  recon- 
struction of  a  lost  piece  of  architecture,  which  was  afterwards  discovered  to  be 
quite  correct.  He  holds  that  such  mental  pictures  of  the  past  become 
spontaneously  apparent  to  the  artist  "  when  in  a  state  of  mental  passivity  after 
intellectual  exertion  in  the  particular  direction  needed."  Ttris  instance  is 
independent  of  the  discoveries  he  describes  as  made  at  Glastonbury  through 
automatic  writing,  which  indeed  may  be  explained  on  the  same  principle. 

2  The   Student   in   Arms    (2nd  ■series),    p.    31. 


VI        PSYCHOLOGY  OF  INSPIRATION      205 

gone  before;  it  is  not  a  gift  dropped  mysteriously  and 
spontaneously  from  heaven.  It  is  only  a  half-truth  to 
say  that  "  art  happens."  Genius  is  no  doubt  more 
than  "  an  unlimited  capacity  for  taking  pains,"  but  this 
is  almost  invariably  one  of  its  conditions.  A  classical 
description  of  the  process  is  given  in  Myers's  St.  Paul: 

Lo  as  some  bard  on  isles  of  the  Aegean, 

Lovely  and  eager  when  the  earth  was  young, 

Burning  to  hurl  his  heart  into  a  paean. 

Praise  of  the  hero  from  whose  loins  he  sprung ;  — 

He,  I  suppose,  with  such  a  care  to  carry. 

Wandered  disconsolate  and  waited  long. 
Smiting  his  breast,  wherein  the  notes  would  tarry, 

Chiding  the  slumber  of  the  seed  of  song: 

Then  in  the  sudden  glory  of  a  minute, 

Airy-  and  excellent  the  proem  came. 
Rending  his  bosom,  for  a  god  was  in  it, 

Waking  the  seed,  for  it  had  burst  in  flame. 

In  view  of  these  considerations  we  shall  not  have 
much  doubt  what  answer  to  give  to  the  question  asked 
by  Dr.  Davidson  '  with  regard  to  Biblical  inspiration: 
"  When  truth  suddenly  dawned  on  the  prophet's  mind,| 
which  formerly  he  strove  unsuccessfully  to  reach  by 
means  of  reflection,  did  the  feeling  he  had  at  such  a 
moment  differ  from  the  feeling  men  still  have,  when 
oftentimes,  in  peculiarly  spontaneous  frames  of  mind, 
difficulties  are  broken  up  and  problems  solved  which 
before  resisted  all  conscious  and  direct  efforts  of  the 
mind?  "  We  may  take  as  an  example  Isaiah's  account 
of  his  call.^  Here  we  have  a  religious  experience 
which  seems  at  first  sight  to  be  entirely  spontaneous. 
Yet  we  may  find  the  key  in  the  opening  words  of  the 
chapter:  "  In  the  year  that  king  Uzziah  died."  The 
king  had  been  the  hero  of  the  young  prophet;  the  shock 
of  his  tragic  end  led  him  up  from  hero-worship  and 
imperialism    to    religion    and    God.     The    subsequent 

\  Old   Testament   Profhecy,   p.    iii. 
2  Isaiah  vi. 


2o6  THE  SPIRIT  vi 

vision  and  revelation  become  psychologically  intcl- 
lif^ihlc  as  the  outcome  of  a  spiritual  crisis,  due  to  his- 
torical events  and  reflection  on  them.''  But  they  do 
not  therefore  cease  to  be  true  and  epoch-making.  We 
cannot  indeed  always  trace  the  psychological  ante- 
cedents which  condition  the  experiences  of  the  Biblical 
writers.  They  were  not  interested  in  psychology  or 
in  the  process  by  which  they  arrived  at  their  con- 
clusions; in  many  cases  they  were  probably  unconscious 
of  any  such  process.  But  there  is  no  evidence  that 
their  minds  did  not  work  in  the  same  way  as  the  minds 
of  other  men;  w'hat  seemed  spontaneous  had  really  been 
prepared  for. 

Once  more,  while  what  seems  to  be  the  intuitive 
flash  of  genius  is  often  of  supreme  significance,  whether 
in  religion  or  in  art,  we  must  not  make  it  the  special 
criterion  of  discovery  or  of  communion  with  the  Divine. 
"  '  What  constitutes  the  true  artist,'  says  a  master  of 
style,  '  is  not  the  slowness  or  quickness  of  the  process, 
but  the  absolute  success  of  the  result.'  .  .  .  Beauty  and 
truth  may  come  together  and  find  the  exactly  right 
words  in  the  flash  of  a  moment,  or  after  many  at- 
tempts." ^  A  piece  of  music  such  as  the  last  move- 
ment of  the  Ninth  Symphony,  hammered  out  after 
many  experiments  and  rejected  themes,  may  be  as  in- 
spired as  Schubert's  Songs,  flashing  into  the  mind  un- 
expectedly and  almost  ready  formed.  St.  Luke's  Gos- 
pel, the  result  of  the  comparison  and  blending  of  earlier 
documents  and  materials,  or  the  considered  argument 
of  the  Epistle  to  the  Romans,  are  no  less  inspired 
than  the  vision  of  the  Apocalypse.  The  highest  ex- 
amples of  revelation  are  not  necessarily  to  be  found 
where  the  process  is  obscure,  or  where  the  outcome 
seems  to  be  spontaneous;  still  less  should  this  ob- 
scurity or  spontaneity  be  regarded  as  the  tests  of 
revelation. 

1  Cf.  G.   A.   Smith's  discussion  of  the  passage  in   The  BoOk  of  Isaiah  ("  The 
Expositor's  Bible"),  pp.  58  ff. 

2  E.   T.   Cook,   Literary  Recreations,  p.   316. 


VI        PSYCHOLOGY  OF  INSPIRATION       207 

The  Sense  of  Otherness 

It  is,  indeed,  not  surprising  that  in  such  cases  of 
apparently  spontaneous  emergence  the  feeling  of  "  oth- 
erness "  an^  of  external  inspiration  is  especially  strong.! 
The  popular  use  of  the  phrase  "  it  came  as  an  inspira- 
tion "  is  of  an  idea  flashing  unexpectedly  into  the  mind, 
as  though  from  some  outside  source,  and  welcomed  at 
once  as  valuable  and  correct.  Stevenson,  not  alto- 
gether playfully,^  attributes  his  stories  to  his 
"  Brownies,"  both  when  he  is  asleep  and  even  to  some 
extent  during  his  waking  hours.  Blake  attributes  his 
poems  to  spiritual  helpers.  As  he  walked  along  the 
seashore  he  was  haunted  by  the  forms  of  Moses  and 
the  prophets,  of  Homer  and  Milton,  who  seemed  to 
communicate  to  him  directly  what  he  was  to  write. 
"  I  may  praise  it,"  he  says,  "  since  I  dare  not  pretend 
to  be  other  than  the  secretary;  the  authors  are  in 
eternity."  "  I  have  written  this  poem  from  immediate 
dictation,  twelve,  or  sometimes  twenty  or  thirty  lines 
at  a  time  without  premeditation,  and  even  against  my 
will."  ^  So  Bohme,"'  speaking  of  his  visions,  says: 
"  Whatever  I  could  bring  into  outwardness,  that  I 
wrote  down.  The  work  is  none  of  mine;  I  am  but 
the  Lord's  instrument,  wherewith  He  doeth  what  He 
will."  The  account  which  the  prophetic  writers  of  the' 
Bible  give  of  themselves  is  often  in  line  with  this  con- 
ception. No  doubt  it  is  difficult  to  be  quite  sure  how 
far  "  The  Lord  said  unto  me,"  or  the  language  of 
visions,  whether  in  the  prophets  or  the  Apocalyptic 
writers,  represents  in  all  cases  a  real  psychological  ex- 
perience, or  whether  it  is  sometimes  merely  an  ac- 
cepted literary  and  religious  mode  of  expression.  But 
in  either  case  it  unquestionably  stands  for  a  conviction 
that  the  message  is  not  only  true  but  in  some  sense  is 
not  the  prophet's  own,  coming  from  a  higher  source 
outside  himself. 

1  Acroii  the  Plains.  "  A   Chapter  on    Dreams." 

2  Sec  F.  Granger,  The  Seal  of  a  Christian,  pp.  .'15   ff. 

3  Quoted  in   Inge,  Christian  Mysticism,  p.   J77. 


2o8  THE  SPIRIT  VI 

But  this  sense  of  otherness  is  not  in  itself  the  hall- 
'mark  of  a  divine  revelation.  We  find,  for  example, 
in  the  realm  of  a.rt  works  which  have  been  produced  by 
this  intuitive  process,  by  what  Myers  would  regard  as 
specifically  the  method  of  genius,  without  being  in 
themselves  works  of  genius.^  He  instances  Haydon's 
Raiding  of  Lazarus,  which,  as  his  Autobiography 
shows,  flashed  upon  him  with  an  overmastering  sense 
of  direct  inspiration,  or  Voltaire's  "  unreadable 
tragedy  Catiliua,"  written  in  a  week  and  ascribed  by 
him  to  a  flash  of  genius,  the  gift  of  God.  Where 
Blake  insists  most  on  his  "  inspiration,"  as  in  the 
prophetic  books,  the  result  is  on  a  lower  level  than  in 
the  lyrics  produced  In  a  more  normal  way.  In  the 
same  way  immediacy,  or  the  overmastering  sense  of 
certainty  and  "  given-ness,"  is  no  guarantee  of  superior 
excellence  or  truth  in  philosophy  or  religion.  Here  is 
Nietzsche's  account  of  his  own  experience  of  "  inspi- 
ration " : 

If  one  had  the  smallest  vestige  of  superstition  left  in  one, 
it  would  hardly  be  possible  completely  to  set  aside  the  idea  that 
one  is  the  mere  incarnation,  mouthpiece,  or  medium  of  an 
almighty  power.  The  idea  of  revelation  in  the  sense  that 
something  which  profoundly  convulses  and  upsets  one  becomes 
suddenly  visible  and  audible  with  indescribable  certainty  and 
accuracy  describes  the  simple  fact.  One  hears  —  one  does  not 
seek  —  one  takes  —  one  does  not  ask  who  gives :  a  thought  sud- 
denly flashes  up  like  lightning,  it  comes  with  necessity,  without 
faltering.     I  have  never  had  any  choice  in  the  matter.^ 

The  account  is  combined  with  an  extravagant  insis- 
tence on  the  absolute  truth  and  pre-eminence  of  the  re- 
sult: "  If  all  the  spirit  and  goodness  of  every  great 
soul  were  collated  together,  the  whole  could  not  create 
a  single  one  of  Zarathustra's  discourses."  -^  As  Dr. 
Figgis  points  out,  Nietzsche's  philosophy  is  not  in  fact 

1  Human  Personality   (one  vol.   edition),  p.   60. 

2  Quoted    from  Ecce  Homo,  p.    loi,   by  J.    N.    Figgis,    Tbe    Will  to   Freedom, 
pp.  160  iT. 

3  Figgis,  op.  cit.,  p.   163. 


VI        PSYCHOLOGY  OF  INSPIRATION       209 

so  original  as  he  supposed,  and  we  certainly  shall  not 
accept  it  as  divinely  inspired,  but  here  we  have  a  sin- 
cere conviction  of  inspiration  in  the  prophetic  sense. 
Of  course  Nietzsche  himself  rejects  the  prima  facie 
impression  that  he  is  in  communion  with  a  higher 
power,  but  even  in  the  case  of  those  who  insist,  and  no 
doubt  insist  rightly,  that  they  are  in  such  communion, 
we  cannot  consent  to  accept  their  message  as  true  on 
this  ground  alone. 

Claims  to  such  communion  are  found  in  many  re- 
ligfons;  we  cannot  reject  as  delusions  all  which  are 
not  associated  with  our  own  creed,  nor  on  the  other 
hand  are  we  compelled  to  accept  the  teaching  based  on 
them  as  "  revelations."  Such  considerations  are  a 
commonplace  with  regard  to  the  experiences  and  the 
writings  of  the  mystics,  as  well  as  of  the  prophets, 
true  and  false,  of  the  Old  Testament.  Again,  let  us 
listen  to  the  testimony  of  Mr.  Wells: 

Then  suddenly,  in  a  little  while,  in  His  own  time,  God 
comes.  This  cardinal  experience  is  an  undoubting  immediate 
sense  of  God.  It  is  as  if  one  were  touched  at  every  point  by  a 
being  akin  to  oneself,  sympathetic  beyond  measure.  ...  It 
is  like  standing  side  by  side  with  and  touching  someone  we 
love  ver\'  dearly  and  trust  completely.  '  Closer  is  he  than 
breathing,  nearer  than  hands  and  feet."  The  moment  may 
come  while  we  are  alone  in  the  darkness,  under  the  stars,  or 
while  walking  by  ourselves,  or  in  a  crowd,  or  while  we  sit  and 
muse.  It  may  come  in  the  sinking  ship  or  in  the  tumult 
of  battle.  Hut  after  it  has  come  our  lives  are  changed.  God 
is  with  us,  and  there  is  no  more  doubt  of  God.^ 

These  words  undoubtedly  represent  a  first-hand  re-\ 
ligious  experience,  but  they  do  not  compel  us  to  ac- 
cept the  theology  of  God  the  Invisible  King  as  the  out- 
come of  a  special  revelation.  Are  we  then  justified 
in  arguing  in  the  case  of  the  Bible  that  the  unquestioned 
genuineness  of  the  religious  experience  of  its  writers  is  ' 
in  itself  the  proof  of  the  truth  of  everything  in  their 
teaching?      In  the  Psalms  we  find  the  sense  of  personal 

1  God  the    Invisible   King,    p.    27. 


2  10  THE  SPIRIT  VI 

fellowship  with  God  at  its  highest,  but  this  does  not, 
as  has  sometimes  been  suggested,  carry  with  it  any 
guarantee  that  the  attitude  towards  enemies  adopted  in 
some  of  them  corresponds  to  the  Divine  Mind. 

We  may  remind  ourselves  of  the  parallel  problem 
which  we  found  in  connection  with  grace.  There  too 
there  was  the  sense  of  "  otherness."  It  is  a  conviction 
of  all  deep  religious  experience  that  it  is  "  a  power  not 
ourselves  "  which  raises  and  saves,  and  which  also  re- 
veals and  teaches.  But  in  the  moral  sphere  this 
"  otherness  "  did  not  justify  us  in  drawing  a  sharp  line 
between  natural  and  supernatural  virtues,  or  imply  a 
class  of  actions  which  could  be  called  perfect.  Both 
with  grace  and  wnth  inspiration  the  Divine  influence 
works  by  entering  into  the  personality  so  as  to  co-op- 
erate with  it;  it  does  not  supersede  it  by  way  of  pos- 
session. 

It  follows  that  it  is  impossible  to  find  in  anything 
which  comes  through  the  medium  of  a  human  mind  an 
absolute  "  Revelation."  There  is  always  some  dross 
with  the  gold,  something  individual  and  peculiar,  tem- 
porary and  inadequate.  "  No  man  hath  seen  God  at 
any  time,"  nor  Is  His  voice  heard  speaking  from 
heaven.  We  Insist  on  the  absolute  reality  of  com- 
munion with  Him,  but  we  cannot  take  certain  forms 
of  this  communion  and  say,  "  This  is  seeing  God  face 
to  face,  as  a  man  sees  and  talks  with  his  friend  in  the 
body,  while  at  other  times  we  only  know  about  God  as 
we  may  read  a  letter  from  a  friend,  hear  or  talk  or 
think  about  him."  We  cannot  say,  "  Here  God  comes 
personally  to  the  prophets  and  reveals  Himself,  while 
in  all  other  cases  He  merely  leads  men  to  discover 
something  about  Him."  The  outside  element,  the  di- 
vine entering  into  the  human  spirit,  is  Indeed  a  reality 
and  does  make  a  difference;  but  It  Is  not  confined  to 
any  one  type  of  communion,  nor  is  it  ever  found  In 
isolation  from  the  human  contribution. .  The  prophet, 
.whether  In  religion,  art,  or  science,  is  justified  in  his 


VI        PSYCHOLOGY  OF  INSPIRATION       211 

claim  "  Thus  saith  the  Lord,"  but  It  cannot  be  held  to[ 
carry  with  it  the  elimination  of  the  human  element  or 
to  place  the  content  of  his  message  beyond  criticism. 
Nor  again  does  it  imply  an  access  to  a  mode  of  inspira- 
tion wholly  denied  to  the  ordinary  man.  1 

The  Test  of  Inspiration 

What,  then,  is  the  final  test  of  inspiration?  We  can 
only  reply  that  there  is  no  special  criterion  peculiar  to 
the  realm  of  religion,  or  applicable  to  one  particular 
type  of  literature  such  as  the  Bible.  The  test  whether 
a  writer  is  inspired  is  simply  whether  his  message  is 
true.  The  criterion  of  truth  is  indeed  a  much  vexed 
question  of  philosophy,  but  no  system  makes  truth,  or 
the  highest  truth,  dependent  on  the  special  channel 
through  which  it  comes.  The  test  may  be  congruity 
with  experience,  or  with  the  whole  correlated  body  of 
truth;  It  may  be  a  certain  self-evidencing  power,  or 
even  the  fact  that  it  "  works  "  In  the  broadest  sense. 
But  in  any  case  the  appeal  must  be  to  the  reason,  to 
the  whole  personality  at  Its  highest  and  best.  All 
revelation  must  be  judged  by  Its  Inherent  truth,  by  its 
power  of  finding  us  and  appealing  to  our  conscience, 
by  the  degree  In  which  it  calls  out  the  best  in  us  and 
awakens  the  response  of  the  highest  part  of  our  being. 
It  cannot  rest  ultimately  on  any  external  authority  be- 
cause we  ourselves  can  be  the  only  judges  of  the  claims 
of  such  authority.  In  particular  we  have  found  reason 
to  believe  that  It  is  not  bound  up  with  any  one  psycho- 
logical process,  or  peculiar  to  any  one  age  or  set  of 
people.  We  cannot  escape  the  responsibility  of  judg-  \ 
ing  for  ourselves  by  throwing  ourselves  in  blind  faith  ' 
upon  the  method  of  revelation  and  finding  In  that  a  j 
guarantee  of  divine  truth. 

7'o  many  religious  minds  It  will  seem  to  be  no  light 
thing  to  abandon  this  hope  of  some  external  infallible 
authority.  In  our  weakness  we  crave  something 
definite  on  which  to  lean,  something  which  may  tell  us 


212  THE  SPIRIT  VI 

1  without  possibility  of  error  what  we  are  to  do,  what  wc 
(  are  to  believe.  And  yet  here  too  the  message  of  Chris- 
tianity is  that  by  losing  our  life  we  find  it.  It  tells 
us  to  live  dangerously  and  take  risks.  It  never 
allows  us  merely  to  play  for  safety;  in  thought  no  less 
than  in  action  we  must  be  ready  for  adventure  to  set 
forth  into  the  unknown,  each  one  for  himself,  in  re- 
liance on  the  Spirit  of  God. 

I  But  though  it  is  true  that  each  of  us  must  take  the 
responsibility  of  forming  his  own  judgement,  yet  it  is 
equally  important  to  insist  that  ultimately  the  indi- 
vidual does  not  stand  alone.  The  organ  which  decides 
on  truth  is  in  the  last  resort  the  community  of  which 
he  is  a  member,  the  communis  sensus  fideliiim,  by  which 
we  mean  agreement  of  the  highest  and  best  trained 
M  I'  minds  in  any  field,  working  over  the  generations.  A 
decision  so  reached  is  slow,  and  it  is  not  at  any  given 
moment,  or  in  respect  to  any  given  point,  infallible, 
but,  in  the  long  run,  securus  judicat  orbis  terrarum. 
ji  And  it  is  to  this  general  instinct  of  the  religious  com- 
^  1  munity  that  we  owe  the  Bible.  By  a  gradual  and  un- 
conscious process  of  selection  this  instinct  picked  out 
the  best  books  from  their  competitors  —  the  best 
Psalms,  for  instance,  from  the  Jewish  sacred  poetry  of 
many  centuries,  the  best  Gospels  from  the  various  Lives 
of  Christ.  When  we  are  able  to  compare,  as  we  can 
to  some  extent  in  this  latter  case,  or  in  the  case  of  the 
Jewish  literature  which  arose  subsequently  to  the  Old 
Testament,  we  see  clearly  that  this  instinct,  though  not 
beyond  mistake  or  question,  did  on  the  whole  work 
out  right.  The  official  stamping  of  books  as  canonical 
was  simply  the  formal  endorsement  of  this  instinctive 
selection.  And  it  is  worth  noting  that  the  process  still 
goes  on,  as  the  Bible  is  used.  The  pages  of  St.  John 
or  the  Epistle  to  the  Philippians  are  thumbed,  while 
Chronicles  or  Esther  remain  untouched.  Whatever 
be  the  official  rules  as  to  the  use  of  the  Psalms,  those 
who    are    free    to    choose    unconsciously    select    their 


VI         PSYCHOLOGY  OF  INSPIRATION       213 

favourites,  and,  within  limits,  the  selection  Is  much  the 
same  in  all  ages  and  in  all  classes.  It  is  further  of  the 
highest  significance  that  the  verdict  of  the  simple  de- 
votional reader  of  the  Bible  agrees  on  the  whole  with 
the  verdict  of  the  professed  student,  and  even  of  the 
advanced  critic,  as  to  the  books  and  the  passages  which 
stand  on  the  highest  level  of  inspiration.  The  more 
we  abandon  external  tests  of  inspiration  the  more  im- 
pressive becomes  the  fact  of  the  universal  appeal  of 
the  noblest  parts  of  the  Bible  to  the  religious  Instinct 
of  mankind.  It  Is  the  same  general  method  that  we 
see  at  work  In  the  selection  of  the  highest  achieve- 
ments of  art  or  literature,  no  less  than  In  the  sifting 
of  truth  from  error.  As  the  mills  of  judgement  grind 
slowly,  so  does  this  process  of  testing  and  sifting.  The 
Spirit  of  God  gives  us  no  clear-cut  information  as  to 
what  we  are  to  approve  or  value  most  highly.  He 
places  no  external  hall-mark  of  authenticity  on  His 
revelation,  yet  gradually,  but  surely.  He  trains  the 
divine  faculty  In  man  by  which  he  may  respond  to  the 
true  and  the  beautiful,  and  sift  the  gold  from  the  dross. 


) 


The  Unexplained  Residuum 

Neither  In  religion  nor  In  philosophy,  art,  or  science  ' 
can  we  In  the  last  resort  say  why  a  particular  discovery  , 
or  revelation  comes  to  one  man  or  one  age  rather  than 
to  another.      Men  living  at  the  same   time  have   the   I 
same  raw  material  to  work  upon;  some  of  them  may 
be  engaged  on  the  same  line  of  thought  or  artistic  ef- 
fort with  apparently  equal  sincerity  and  devotion;  the 
same  fellowship  with  the  Spirit  is  open  to  all.      Yet  the 
flash  of  discovery,  or  the  special  gift  of  expression, 
comes  to  one  and  not  to  another.      Sometimes  we  can 
In   a   measure   explain   the   reason;   sometimes  we   are 
baffled.      But  in  general  we  may  surely  conckidc  that,  I 
whereas  God  is  always  and  everywhere  seeking  to  re-| 
veal  Himself  to  the  mind  of  man  in  the  perfection  of 
His  goodness,  truth,  and  beauty,  how  much  man  can 


2  14  THE  SPIRIT  VI 

I  receive  depends  on  his  power  of  response  and  vision. 
Even  when  inspiration  was  regarded  as  direct  dicta- 
tion, this  fact  was  dimly  recognised.     There  is  a  Jew- 
ish legend  that  when  the  children  of  Israel  sinned  with 
the    Golden    Calf    the    divine    writing   vanished    from 
\  the  Tables.'       The  measure  of  apprehension  depends 
'  partly  on  the  spiritual  atmosphere  of  the  whole  com- 
munity,  partly  on  the  preparedness  of  particular  in- 
j  dividuals  within  the  community.     The  genius  can  never 
1  be  independent  of  this  atmosphere,  nor  can  he  be  in- 
(  definitely  in  advance  of  it.      He  focusses  in  himself  all 
that  is  best  in  the  thought  or  the  artistic  instincts  of 
the  many,   and  so  progress  comes.      Up  to  a  certain 
point  we  can  explain  psychologically  the  conditions  and 
the  method  of  such  progress,  but  there  is  always  the 
unexplained   residuum,   and  this  depends  on   the   per- 
sonal factor.     We  cannot  completely  account  for  the 
fact   that   the  highest   insight  into   the  character  and 
being  of  God  came  to  the  Jew  and  not  to  the  Baby- 
lonian or  the  Greek.     Why,  in  the  last  resort,  does 
one  generation,  race,  or  individual  open  itself  to  the 
all-pervading  divine  influence,  while  others  absorb  but 
little  of  it?     But  the  problem  is  not  in  any  way  pe- 
culiar to  the  region  of  the  revelation  of  religious  truth. 
Precisely  the  same  problem  faces  us  in  considering  any 
great  advance  in  moral  goodness,  scientific  discovery, 
philosophic  insight,  or  artistic  achievement.      It  is  the 
same  question  why,  in  the  ultimate  nature  of  things, 
one  man  is  worse  or  more  stupid  than  another;  why 
iOne  responds  to  the  grace  of  God  while  his  neighbour 
j'does  not.      From  this  point  of  view  it  is  no  easier  to 
'  explain   why   one    is    a    dunce,    unable    to   master    the 
pons  asinorum,  than  it  is  to  account  for  Shakespeare 
and  his  plays,  or  the  religious  insight  of  Isaiah. 

The  problem,  then,  is  really  parallel  to  the  biological 
problem  of  explaining;  thf  origin  of  valuable  variations 
in  the  species,  a  problem  to  which  no  complete  answer 
has  been  given.      But  because  there  is  always  this  un- 

X  The  Biblical  Antiquities  of  Philo,  xii.  7  (edited  by  M,  R.  James). 


VI        PSYCHOLOGY  OF  INSPIRATION       215 

explained  factor,  the  personal  .v,  In  goodness  and  bad- 
ness, in  success  and  failure  alike,  this  does  not  justify 
us  In  arguing  that  the  degree  to  which  God  is  present 
depends  on  the  amount  which  seems  to  be  left  unex- 
plained in  any  given  case.  The  only  test  of  the  pres- 
ence of  God,  of  the  extent  to  which  we  have  entered 
into  His  mind.  Is  the  result:  how  far  Is  it  good,  beau- 
tiful, or  true?  The  method  or  the  degree  of  unex- 
pectedness is,  as  we  have  seen,  irrelevant.  The  fact 
that  we  may  be  able  to  trace  the  working  of  cause  and 
effect  does  not  banish  God,  nor  Is  He  specially  present 
where  we  have  so  far  failed  to  unravel  the  sequence. 
We  do  not  look  for  the  peculiar  evidence  of  the  DIvnne 
in  that  which  we  cannot  explain  by  hitherto  deciphered 
laws,  whether  of  nature  or  psychology,  in  supposed 
breaches  of  the  process  of  evolution,  in  discoveries 
of  which  the  genesis  is  obscure.  God  is  in  the  order  of 
nature  as  a  whole,  not  specifically  in  what  seem  to  be 
its  gaps. 

Inspiration  and  Communion  with  God 

But  though  there  is  no  external  criterion  of  inspira- 
tion, though  there  Is  no  one  method  or  process  of  its 
working,  none  the  less  It  has  one  fixed  condition.  It  is 
that  from  which  we  started,  the  contact  of  the  human 
spirit  with  the  divine,  the  right  experience  of  God. 
Without  this  there  can  be  no  revelation  of  God,  and 
where  It  exists  there  Is  always  some  measure  of  revela- 
tion. Such  contact  may  come  through  dream  or  vision, [I 
through  trance  or  ecstasy,  or  it  may  come  in  the  sober 
light  of  common  day,  when  the  faculties  are  fully 
awake  and  the  reason  stretched  to  its  point  of  highest 
tension.  The  revelation  of  the  truth  may  seem  to  l 
flash  into  the  mind  as  a  sudden  Intuition,  apparently 
unprepared  for  and  inexplicable  by  ordinary  psycho- 
logical law;  it  may  be  arrived  at  slowly,  here  a  little 
and  there  a  little,  by  what  seems  to  be  the  natural 
result  of  hard  study  and  thought.      It  may  be  mediated 


2i6  THE  SPIRIT  VI 

I  by  prayer  and  meditation,  or  by  the  search  for  truth, 
/  beauty,  and  goodness,  pursued  unselfishly  as  absolute 
values.  But  in  proportion  to  the  extent  and  reality 
I  of  the  contact  will  be  the  measure  of  the  inspiration, 
'  and  therefore  we  shall  not  be  surprised  to  find  it  at  its 
highest  when  the  communion  is  deliberate  and  con- 
scious. And  this  is  precisely  the  case  with  the  Bible  as 
a  whole.  Many,  though  not  indeed  all,  of  its  writers 
do  manifest  quite  clearly  the  sense  of  personal  contact 
with  a  personal  God.  He  is  to  them  not  the  personi- 
fication of  an  abstract  principle,  but  a  vividly  realised 
friend,  teacher,  and  leader.  They  make  it  their  de- 
liberate purpose  to  enter  into  direct  communion  with 
Him,  spirit  meeting  with  spirit.  We  do  not  indeed 
accept  their  inspiration  or  the  truth  of  their  message 
primarily  on  account  of  such  a  claim.  But  once  their 
teaching  has  commended  itself  to  the  conscience  and 
reason  by  its  inherent  appeal,  we  can  then  go  back  to 
that  claim  and  accept  it  fully  and  without  reserve;  we 
can  see  that  it  has  indeed  been  the  condition  and  the 
explanation  of  their  high  inspiration. 

The  same  holds  good  with  regard  to  other  seers. 
The  truth,  the  beauty,  the  moral  grandeur  prove  their 
inspiration;  it  is  not  the  inspiration  which  proves  that 
their  message  is  true.  But  especially  where  religious 
values,  such  as  the  innermost  being  and  character  of 
God,  are  concerned,  we  do  find  in  general  that  where 
ithe  highest  truth  has  been  discovered  there  has  been 
some  form  or  other  of  conscious  communion  with  Him; 
jthe  Divine  Spirit  has  entered  into  the  human. 

We  shall  agree  in  finding  the  supreme  example  of 
inspiration  in  Christ.  And  here  to  a  pre-eminent 
degree  the  condition  of  personal  communion  with  the 
Father,  constant  and  unbroken,  is  fulfilled.  In  a  special 
sense  He  claims  to  know  the  Father,  i.e.  to  be  in  touch 
with  Him.  His  message  is  not  His  own,  but  His 
Father's;  the  sense  of  "  otherness  "  is  very  strong,  and 
with  it  the  conviction  of  authority  and  certainty.      But, 


VI        PSYCHOLOGY  OF  INSPIRATION       217 

once  more,  the  ground  on  which  we  accept  His  teaching,  ' 
the  revelation  which  comes  through  Him,  is  the  appeal 
which  it  makes  to  the  highest  instincts  of  mankind,  an 
appeal  confirmed  by,  though  it  does  not  logically  start  1 
from,  the  impression  left  by  our  records  that  Jesus  was 
in  a  unique  sense  in  touch  with  God.  The  proof  to 
others  of  the  reality  of  such  intercourse  can  in  each  case 
only  be  found  in  the  effects  on  the  character  and  insight 
of  him  who  claims  to  experience  it.  There  are  indeed 
several  features  to  be  noted  with  regard  to  the  inspira- 
tion of  Christ  which  confirm  the  line  of  thought  we 
have  been  following  here.  ( i )  There  is  a  striking 
absence  of  any  claim  to  peculiar  or  abnormal  modes  of 
intercourse;  we  hear  but  little  of  ecstatic  vision  or 
mystic  absorption.  What  Christ  experienced  was  a 
close  and  unsullied  union  with  His  Father  through  the 
normal  means  which  are  open  to  every  child  of  God. 
(2)  It  is  now  generally  agreed  that  this  personal  in- 
spiration did  not  bring  with  it  any  externally  revealed 
knowledge  of  historical  or  scientific  fact;  what  He 
knew  of  these  matters  came  through  the  ordinary 
channels;  His  originality  lay  in  the  insight  which  He 
brought  to  bear  on  the  interpretation  of  life.  (3)  He 
left  no  written  record  of  His  own  to  stereotype  the  rev- 
elation of  which  He  was  the  bearer.  More  and  more 
do  we  realise  the  profound  significance  of  the  fact  that 
the  highest  example  of  inspiration  which  mankind  has 
known  works  primarily  as  a  living  Spirit  in  the  hearts  of 
those  in  touch  with  Him.  There  is  the  written  record 
of  the  Gospels  which  allows  us  to  know  the  character 
and  outlines  of  His  teaching,  but  this  teaching  comes  to 
us  in  a  diluted  form;  it  is  not  fixed  in  a  series  of  ipsis- 
s'lma  verba  which  might  be  regarded  as  final,  infallible, 
absolute  truth.  Thus  even  in  the  case  of  the  record  of  \ 
the  sayings  of  the  Master  Himself  the  principle  holds 
good  that  nowhere  can  we  put  our  finger  on  a  direct 
undiluted  word  from  heaven;  always  there  is  the  human 
medium  which  lends  its  own  colour  to  the  revelation. 


I 


21 8  THE  SPIRIT  VI 

Tin:  Inspiration  of  the  Ordinary  Man 

We  have  been  spcakinj:;  of  the  supreme  examples  of 
inspiration,  and  in  jreneral  usage  we  confine  the  term  to 
these,  though  the  hne  may  be  drawn  at  very  different 
points.  And  it  is  important  to  remember  that  in  all 
fields  it  needs  the  genius  to  originate  or  discover,  while 
the  ordinary  man  can  but  assimilate  and  understand, 
at  best  improve  and  develop.  At  the  same  time,  while 
recognising  this  general  usage,  based  on  a  real  difference 
of  degrees  of  insight,  we  are  concerned  to  maintain  that 
in  the  last  resort  it  is  a  question  of  degree.  Inspiration 
is  not  a  rare  thing,  peculiar  to  a  small  class;  in  its 
measure  it  is  open  to,  and  does  often  actually  come 
to,  the  ordinary  man.  The  limitation  is  parallel  to  a 
similar  limitation  often  made  in  connection  with  con- 
duct. Holiness,  or  sainthood,  is  spoken  of  as  the  mark 
of  a  few  select  spirits  who  have  climbed  the  heights, 
and  yet  all  God's  children,  and  particularly  those  who 
are  in  fellowship  with  Christ,  may,  and  often  do,  at- 
tain to  their  measure  of  holiness.  Even  so,  as  all  are 
called  to  be  saints,  they  may  all  be  taught  of  God. 
Further,  while  we  think  specially  of  inspiration  as  con- 
cerned with  religion  and  spiritual  values,  in  the  wider 
sense  it  covers  all  life.  It  is  open  to  the  artist  and  the 
man  of  science,  to  the  historian  and  the  statesman,  to 
the  merchant  and  the  labourer.  Only  from  God  can 
each  get  the  right  judgement  in  whatever  his  hands 
find  to  do,  and  this  right  judgement  is  in  the  last  resort 
of  the  same  nature  and  comes  from  the  same  source, 
with  the  same  variety  of  method  and  process,  as  in- 
,spiration  in  the  narrower  sense.  We  are  sometimes 
suspicious  of  such  inspiration  because  it  has  often  been 
associated  with  illogical,  detached  intuitions,  received 
as  special  divine  leadings  without  serious  examination, 
shifting  the  responsibility  of  thought  and  decision  from 
the  shoulders  of  the  individual,  and  acted  on  with 
disastrous  results  to  himself  and  those  around  him. 
There  is  the  constant  desire   to  be  able  to  cry  "  Lo 


VI        PSYCHOLOGY  OF  INSPIRATION       219 

here  or  Lo  there  is  the  finger  of  God  directing  mc 
in  my  way  and  determining  my  future."  Few,  indeed, 
who  have  had  their  eyes  open  to  see  the  worlcing  of 
God's  providence  in  their  Hfe,  and  have  tried  to  train 
their  ears  to  hear  the  voice  which  says  "  This  is  the 
way,  walk  ye  in  it,"  will  deny  that  at  times  such  lead- 
ings do  come  with  a  real  authority  and  certainty.  But 
the  point  which  emerges  from  our  investigation  is  that 
such  supposed  intuitions  cannot  be  accepted  blindly  and 
without  thought  as  the  direct  and  unquestioned  voice 
of  God.  They  must  be  approved  of  by  the  conscience 
and  reason;  inspiration  implies  not  the  disintegration 
of  personality  but  its  enhancement,  not  the  over-riding 
of  the  faculties  of  insight  and  decision,  the  God-given 
powers  by  which  each  one  of  us  must  direct  his  way  on  . 
his  own  ultimate  responsibility,  but  their  purging  and  ' 
quickening.  If  this  be  remembered,  we  may,  and 
should,  look  in  joyful  confidence  and  without  reserve 
for  the  inspiration  of  the  Spirit  in  our  daily  life.  Not 
for  one  moment  would  we  underestimate  the  supreme 
value  of  the  inspiration  of  the  seer  or  the  saint,  the 
poet  or  the  thinker,  but  it  is  crucial  to  realise  that  God 
has  not  one  method  of  speaking  to  and  teaching  the 
prophet  and  something  quite  different  for  us  ordinary 
folk.  We,  too,  may  find  the  same  personal  guidance 
and  illumination,  just  in  so  far  as  by  prayer  and  medita- 
tion, by  study  and  thought,  by  experiment  and  honest 
work,  on  the  particular  material  with  which  we  have  to 
deal,  we  succeed  in  opening  our  hearts  to  the  Presence 
which  is  always  there. 


VII 

THE  LANGUAGE  OF  THE  SOUL; 

SOME  REFLECTIONS  ON  THE 

CHRISTIAN  SACRAMENTS 

BY 

L.  DOUGALL 


ANALYSIS 

T.anguape  is  developed  by  fellowship. 

But  spoken  language  is  never  a  perfect  vehicle  of  thought. 

Conversation  is  necessary  to  the  development  of  the  soul. 

Action  is  needed  to  express  thought  when  words  fail. 

The  language  of  action,  like  speech,  is  traditional,  but  also  mutable. 

Religion  needs  its  language  of  action  —  ritual. 

A  symbol  is  something  that  manifests  to  human  sense  a  non- 
sensuous  reality. 

Much  of  the  action  of  daily  life  is  symbolic. 

The  Christian  language  of  action. 

The  two  main  ideas  of  early  Christianity  —  the  joy  of  fellowship 
with  Christ  in  God's  family,  and  the  getting  rid  of  habits  of  ill-will 
in  order  to  enjoy  it  —  are  symbolised  in  the  Eucharist  and  Baptism. 

Two  points  necessary  for  vital  Christian  ceremonial: 

(i)    It    must    express    definitely    the    differentia    of    the    Christian 

religion. 
(2)    It    must    both    embody    tradition    and    also    register    the    pro- 
gressive understanding  of  truth. 

Psychological  explanation  of  the  power  of  the  Sacraments: 

They  act  through  the  psychic  law  of  suggestion. 

The  potency  of  a  suggestion  is  in  proportion  to  (i)  the  arrest  of 
attention  in  the  receiving  mind;  (2)  the  suitability  of  the 
suggestion  to  the  prevailing  mental  attitude. 

Objections,  and  an  illustration. 

The  significance  of  infant  baptism. 

Confession  and  Absolution. 

The  rites  associated  with  the  Eucharist,  and  their  suggestive 
significance. 

Need  of  appropriate  ceremonial. 


VII 

THE  LANGUAGE  OF  THE  SOUL: 

SOME  REFLECTIONS  ON  THE 

CHRISTIAN  SACRAMENTS 

The  Evolution  of  Language 

In  Its  simplest  form  language  must  be  the  attempt  of 
one  living  being  to  communicate  with  another  living 
being.  In  this  sense  the  yap  of  the  hound  to  attract 
the  pack  would  be  language,  even  if  it  were  the  first 
yap  that  the  first  hound  ever  gave.  But  by  language  we 
ordinarily  mean  something  more  developed  —  the  use 
of  signs  agreed  upon  by  the  communicators.  In  so  far 
as  a  man  is  solitary,  language  is  impossible,  although, 
having  first  learnt  language  by  fellowship,  he  may  make 
of  himself  an  imaginary  fellow,  and  in  solitude  take 
great  delight  in  discoursing  with  him.self. 

Any  system  of  words  which  we  call  a  human  language 
has  been  produced  by  centuries  of  psychical  develop- 
ment through  fellowship;  and  any  language  that  can 
be  written,  however  simple  and  elementary,  carries 
with  it  the  story  of  a  civilization  which  is  a  fellowship 
systematised.  There  is  a  real  mystery,  and  one  which 
ought  to  evoke  our  reverence  and  wonder,  in  the  growth 
of  a  highly  organised  language.  Where  has  its  gram- 
mar come  from?  Grammarians  discover;  they  do  not 
create.  If  the  language  in  which  any  great  literature  is 
written  were  a  production  of  conscious  art  or  ingenuity, 
we  should  honour  its  creator  as  in  the  first  rank  of 
human  genius.  But  no  man  made  it,  although  every 
man  who  ever  used  it  aided  in  its  construction.  So 
when  wc  commonly  say  that  a  written  language  is  pro- 
duced by  the  genius  of  a  people,  we  do  not  mean  that 
any  individual  or  any  number  of  individuals  consciously 

223 


224  THE  SPIRIT  VII 

set  to  work  to  construct  it.  Language  Is  not  a  thing 
of  conscious  construction;  it  is  the  unconscious  product 
of  many  minds,  and  reflects  deep  resemblances  of  char- 
acter of  which  no  one  of  them  may  be  aware.  I  see 
no  reason  to  suppose  that  the  corporate  soul  of  a  tribe 
or  nation  has  any  one  centre  of  initiation.  A  language 
is  the  result  of  the  interaction  of  souls  in  a  fellowship, 
and  it  becomes  flexible  and  highly  developed  only  when 
fellowship  Is  intimate  and  prolonged. 

Limitations  of  Verbal  Language 

What,  however,  we  need  more  particularly  to  con- 
sider here  Is  the  limitation  of  even  the  most  highly 
developed  verbal  language.  The  failure  of  words  to 
express  what  Is  most  essential  in  life  is  so  constantly 
with  us  that,  like  the  ticking  of  a  clock,  we  do  not 
even  notice  it.  It  Is  not  alone  the  deep  things,  but 
also  the  shallow  things  that  we  cannot  say  to  one 
another  except  when  the  subject  Is  matter  of  common 
and  familiar  experience.  I  remember  once  being  in 
the  company  of  some  educated  people  when  a  new 
fruit  had  been  exposed  for  sale  In  the  market  of  a 
midland  town.  Half  of  my  companions  had  eaten  the 
fruit,  while  half  had  not  seen  It.  Those  who  knew 
it  were  unable  to  explain  Its  nature  to  those  who  did 
not  know  It.  Those  who  had  not  seen  It  agreed  with 
one  voice  that  they  were  only  confused  by  the  different 
descriptions.  When  an  object  Is  quite  novel,  words 
fail  to  express  what  an  Instant's  experience  of  sense- 
perception  will  fully  convey.  What  words  can  possibly 
convey  the  idea  of  a  new  sound  or  scent  or  smell  or 
texture?  Old  words  fail;  new  words  must  come  into 
being  to  describe  the  new  experience. 

If  this  be  true  of  the  attempt  to  describe  mere  sense- 
perceptions,  it  is  much  more  true  of  the  attempt  to 
describe  new  Ideas.  To  do  this  the  race  Is  constantly 
using  old  words  In  a  new  sense. 

Thus   wherever   there   Is   development  of  mind  or 


VII       THE  LANGUAGE  OF  THE  SOUL      225 

experience,  language  is  developing  to  produce  new 
words  and  new  meanings  for  old  ones;  but  it  always 
lags  behind  experience  —  new  words  are  always  being 
coined  and  new  meanings  given  to  old  ones.  Language 
is  never  static,  but  its  advance  is  never  adequate  to 
express  the  whole  advance  of  thought  or  experience. 
There  must  always  be  a  fringe,  not  only  of  novel  dis- 
coveries, but  of  novel  thought  in  any  community  which 
its  words  fail  as  yet  to  convey.  The  original  thinker 
on  this  account  always  finds  a  large  part  of  his  exposi- 
tion must  consist  in  carefully  defining  his  terms. 

There  is,  however,  another  failure  of  verbal  lan- 
guage with  which  we  are  all  familiar.  There  are  in 
every  man  stirrings  of  emotion  and  volition,  and  half- 
seen  glimpses  of  complex  thoughts,  which  he  cannot 
put  into  words  even  to  himself.  It  is  not  only  that  he 
cannot,  or  does  not  wish  to,  reveal  them  to  others; 
his  own  comprehension  of  himself  fails  in  that  he 
cannot  say  at  such  times  what  he  experiences;  he  can- 
not resolve  into  its  constituent  parts  an  experience  con- 
fused, blurred,  fleeting,  elusive. 

Beneath  the  level  of  our  conscious  and  therefore 
acquired  habits  of  thought  lies  the  conflux  of  our 
primary  and  secondary  instincts.  Impulses  prompted 
by  any  of  these  provoke  in  developed  minds  half-linked 
associations  of  thought  with  other  instinctive  emotions. 
In  this  region  appetites  and  aspirations  are  blurred, 
and  emotions  and  desires  are  like  a  tangled  web.  One 
feeling  touches  the  sympathetic  psychic  associations 
of  many  diverse  feelings.  It  is  quite  impossible  to 
express  what  is  felt,  or  what  is  thought,  or  what  is 
willed,  because  when  we  say  it  is  this,  we  know  that  it 
is  also  that,  and  that  other,  that  we  feel  and  desire. 

Of  course  a  great  deal  of  human  experience  that 
must  once  have  been  confused  and  inexplicable  has 
become  clear,  because  it  has  been  analysed.  The  pleas- 
ures of  eating  and  drinking,  for  example,  are  very 
real  emotions,  and  there  is  very  little  in  this  common 


226  TMK  SPIRIT  VII 

experience  that  an  intclli*:;cnt  man  cannot  analyse,  com- 
prehend, and  talk  about  if  he  wishes  to;  but  it  Is  quite 
probable  that  to  a  dog  the  emotion  roused  by  hunger 
may  be  a  half-comprehended  and  sacred  fervour,  asso- 
ciated inextricably  with  affection  for  the  usual  donor 
of  food,  and  with  the  deeper  and  blind  instinct  of 
self-preservation  and  the  appetite  of  sex,  and  with 
dim  memories  of  hours  of  ecstasy  in  the  hunt  and  the 
fight.  If  this  be  so,  whatever  means  the  dog  has  of 
communicating  with  his  fellows  and  with  men,  such 
language  could  only  express  the  main  fact  of  imme- 
diate hunger;  but  beyond  that  he  would  be  experienc- 
ing things  unutterable  and  inexpressible.  The  whole 
attitude  of  a  hungry  dog  asking  for  food  suggests  a 
quivering  intensity  of  experience  which  seems  to  find 
no  adequate  vent  in  the  various  yaps  and  attitudes  by 
which  he  expresses  the  immediate  fact. 

In  man  the  emotion  of  vague  longing  roused  by 
objects  of  surpassing  beauty  or  sublimity  may  produce 
a  fervour  of  desire  Incommunkable  because  it  touches 
the  deep  spring  of  other  associated  Instincts.  The  best 
verbal  utterance  we  can  find  for  those  half-formed 
thoughts  and  unanalysed  emotions  and  desires  which 
transcend  common  speech  is  poetry;  and  poetry 
usually  satisfies  us  as  the  expression  of  such  experience 
by  what  it  suggests  rather  than  by  what  it  says.  There 
is,  however,  still  much  that  is  unexpressed  in  words, 
and  as  the  soul  can  only  develop  as  it  finds  some  means 
of  self-expression,  some  language  of  action  must  supple- 
ment the  language  of  words.  But  before  considering 
the  language  of  action  let  us  pause  to  realise  how  true 
it  is  that  the  soul  can  only  develop  as  it  finds  means 
of  expression. 

Conversation  Necessary  to  the  Development 

OF  THE  Soul 

If  we  would  understand  the  Christian  ideal  of  fel- 
lowship we  must  fully  realise  that  communication  Is 


VII       THE  LANGUAGE  OF  THE  SOUL     227 

necessary  for  the  growth  of  the  living  soul.  We  so 
hug  to  ourselves  the  idea  that  we  are  deep  and  great 
beyond  the  powers  of  speech  that  we  are  apt  to  value 
ourselves  mainly  by  what  we  do  not  even  try  to  say; 
but  the  inference  we  superficially  draw  from  this  valu- 
ation —  that  expression  is  comparatively  unimportant 
to  the  growth  of  the  soul  —  will  not  bear  a  moment's 
reflection. 

Everywhere  we  see  that  as  animals  rise  in  the  scale 
of  life  they  rise  also  in  the  power  of  making  themselves 
understood  by  their  kind,  and  by  man  when  they  come 
into  contact  with  man.  Human  intelligence  is  seen  to 
rise  above  animal  intelligence  when  it  is  able  to  use  one 
sound  for  a  whole  class  of  sensations  or  ideas.  A  little 
child  begins  by  gesticulation,  and  then  by  words,  to  say 
"  I  want  that  flower,"  "  I  want  that  ball  ";  but  it  goes 
on  to  generalise  as  to  the  attributes  of  all  balls,  all 
flowers;  and  then  to  classify  things  accordingly,  and  to 
give  to  the  class  a  common  name.  Thus  it  is  only  by 
learning  to  speak  that  it  learns  to  think.  Without  dis- 
tinguishing individuals  and  classes,  subjects  and  predi- 
cates, it  is  impossible  to  think.  When  the  child  or 
the  savage  acquires  a  language  by  which  these  things 
can  be  expressed,  it  has  for  the  first  time  a  means  by 
which  to  compare  its  sensations  with  the  sensations 
of  others,  and  to  argue  about  them,  and  thus  increase 
its  experience.  History  shows  that  men  grow  in  power 
over  circumstances  and  in  mutual  usefulness  at  a  pace 
exactly  proportionate  to  their  power  of  thought,  which 
again  depends  upon  their  power  of  exact  expression. 
They  can  learn  only  a  very  little  more  than  they  can 
express,  and  everywhere  the  soul  is  filled  with  a  passion- 
ate desire  to  express  that  little  more,  so  man  is  a  talk- 
ing animal.  At  his  highest,  as  at  his  lowest,  he  must 
talk. 

There  are  three  things  that  move  the  human  soul 
supremely  to  desire  and  admiration  —  truth  and  beauty 
and  generosity.      His  conception  of  these  may  be  dc- 


2  28  THE  SPIRIT  VII 

based  or  exalted.  His  pursuit  of  truth  may  be  that 
of  a  Newton  or  a  Darwin,  or  merely  that  of  a  pastry- 
cook for  the  best  way  of  making  pastry.  His  idea 
of  beauty  may  be  that  of  one  of  the  world's  greatest 
artists  or  poets,  or  it  may  be  the  ecstasy  of  a  factory 
girl  o\er  the  show  in  a  draper's  window,  or  it  may  be 
the  ploughman's  love  of  an  even  furrow.  A  man's 
idea  of  generosity  may  be  expressed  in  the  casual  dole 
out  of  an  abundance,  or  in  dying  to  save  the  world. 
^  he  sum  of  all  that  a  soul  desires  or  admires  may  be 
merely  its  own  comfort,  or  it  may  be  the  God  of  the 
most  exalted  prophet;  but  whatever  it  is,  that  it  will 
pursue  unremittingly;  and  to  this  pursuit  understanding 
is  essential,  and  to  understanding  language  is  essential. 
Language  is  necessary  both  for  what  a  man  would 
learn  from  his  fellow-men,  and  for  such  dialectic  as 
he  must  carry  on  within  his  own  mind.  Its  necessity 
for  progress  is  brought  out  by  the  fact  that  when 
anything  is  fully  mastered  by  the  race  or  the  individual, 
the  necessity  for  conversation  in  regard  to  it  tends  to 
pass  away.  On  the  other  hand,  wherever  man  in  his 
pursuit  of  the  good  for  which  he  lives  begins  to  tran- 
scend what  has  become  a  commonplace,  there  speech  of 
some  sort  becomes  a  vital  necessity.  The  whole  fer- 
ment of  his  mind  is  there  on  the  fringe  where  the  un- 
known enticingly  glimmers  just  beyond  the  known:  at 
that  point  he  must  talk  or  fail  of  his  desire.  He  may 
be  most  conscious  of  the  need  to  talk  to  himself,  or  to 
talk  to  other  men,  or  to  talk  to  God;  but  talk  he  will, 
for  talk  he  must,  for  talk  is  necessary  to  further  under- 
standing which  must  precede  further  acquirement.  The 
working  of  this  law  is  so  constant  and  invariable  that 
we  hardly  notice  it.  How  little  talk  there  is  in  any 
village  about  the  boiling  of  potatoes  or  the  digging  of 
the  ground!  If  a  new  industry  is  established,  a  new 
vegetable  introduced,  what  an  amount  of  talk  is  re- 
quired before  the  corresponding  necessary  habit  be- 
comes established. 


VII       THE  LANGUAGE  OF  THE  SOUL     229 

But  what  is  It  that  happens  when  the  acquirement 
upon  which  the  soul  has  staked  its  all  is  something  for 
which  the  race  has  coined  no  word?  Language  is  still 
necessary;  nay,  it  is  then  most  necessary  of  all. 

But,  lest  we  go  too  fast,  let  us,  before  considering 
further  this  need  of  self-expression,  estimate  the  value 
of  solitary  self-culture.  Of  course  the  speech  common 
to  any  race  fails  to  express  the  idiosyncrasies  of  in- 
dividual experience.  Not  only  is  the  self  of  the  friend 
or  companion  always  something  to  be  apprehended 
by  faith,  but  also  every  soul,  when  it  comes  to  inter- 
rogate itself,  finds  that  what  Is  most  Its  own,  and 
therefore  most  precious,  has  no  verbal  expression. 
This  fact  gives  colour  to  a  conviction  abroad  In  our 
civilisation,  that  the  individual  mind  lives  at  its  highest 
when  it  withdraws  itself  from  all  communication  with 
others.  It  Is  natural  enough  that  this  Idea  should 
have  become  prevalent,  because  In  every  civilisation 
there  comes  a  stage  when  It  is  observed  by  those 
of  superior  education  that  many  Ideas  which  are  In 
the  true  sense  of  the  word  vulgar,  i.e.  common  to 
the  multitude,  are  of  a  tawdry  and  artificial  character. 
They  do  not  represent  the  realities  by  which  alone 
the  noble  mind  can  live;  and  the  first  reaction  to  this 
discovery  Is,  very  naturally,  an  undue  emphasis  upon 
the  comparative  nobility  of  a  state  of  solitude  and  the 
Idea  that  the  merely  individual  reaction  on  life  Is  the 
highest  truth  attainable.  Such  proverbs  as  "  God  made 
the  country  but  man  made  the  town,"  "  Speech  Is  sil- 
vern, silence  Is  golden,"  testified  to  the  cult  of  solitude 
by  the  votaries  both  of  sensibility  and  of  religion,  and 
also  by  that  scholarly  class  of  men  who  have  thought 
kindly  of  the  Stoic  conception  of  the  self-contained  life. 
It  is  the  first  and  most  obvious  reaction  of  the  mind  that 
finds  Itself  making  some  progress  beyond  the  Ideas  and 
sentiments  which  have  become  the  common  property  of 
Its  generation.  "  Mob  "  and  "  crowd  "  psychology,  the 
so-called  "  psychology  of  the  herd,"  arc  new  phrases 


2}o  THE  SPIRIT  VII 

often  used  to  cover  the  premature  generalisations  and 
conclusions  which  psychology,  like  every  infant  science, 
makes;  but  in  all  ages  of  the  world  there  has  been 
instinctive  recognition  of  certain  truths  of  crowd 
psychology  by  reasonable  men.  The  inference  they 
usually  drew  from  them  was  the  desirability  of  being  in 
some  things  a  law  to  oneself  and  living  an  inward  life 
apart  from  men,  either  holding  no  communion  what- 
ever upon  the  deep  things  of  the  heart,  or  holding  such 
communion  only  with  a  God  conceived  as  unrelated  to 
all  those  things  which  occupy  natural  human  speech. 
The  self-sufficing  idea  of  Stoic  philosophy  and  ethics, 
the  self  and  God  sufficiency  of  monastic  religion  and 
of  the  mysticism  of  the  Plotinus  tradition,  were  in 
each  case  an  individualism  bred  of  some  distinctive 
education  which  the  ordinary  man  of  the  world  did  not 
enjoy.  When  in  the  fifteenth  and  sixteenth  centuries 
education  became  a  more  common  grace,  this  idea  that 
wisdom  lay  in  aloofness  naturally  spread  to  a  much 
larger  class  in  the  community.  In  our  last  two  decades 
fellowship  rather  than  Stoicism  has  been  the  fashion  of 
the  hour,  but  to  some  it  appears  a  mere  fashion: 
Wordsworth  has  not  yet  lost  his  influence  when  he 
sings  praise  of  solitude.' 

Before  we  can  estimate  fully  the  need  which  every 
soul  has  of  a  language  that  will  express  its  whole 
mental  life,  we  must  satisfy  ourselves  adequately  as 
to  the  truth  and  the  untruth  of  that  attitude  of  mind 
which  regards  retirement  within  itself —  either  for  the 

1  "  In  aloofness  and  loneliness  of  mind  [Wordsworth]  is  exceeded  by  no 
mystic  of  the  cloister.  ...  In  his  youth  he  confesses  that  human  beings  had 
only  a  secondary  interest  for  him;  and  though  he  says  that  Nature  soon  led 
him  to  man,  it  was  to  man  as  a  '  unity,'  as  '  one  spirit,'  that  he  was  drawn, 
not  to  men  as  individuals.  See  Prelude,  viii."  (Inge,  Christian  Mysticism). 
Compare  the  closing  lines  of  Prelude,  bk.   viii.: 

Nature  had   led  me  on; 
And   oft   amid   the   "  busy   hum  "    I    seemed 
To   travel    independent   of   her   help. 
As  if  I  had   forgotten   her;   but  no, 
The  world   of  human-kind   outweighed   not   hers 
In  my  habitual  thoughts;   the  scale  of  love, 
Though   filling  daily,   still   was  light,  compared 
With  that  in  which  her  mighty  objects  lay. 


VII        THE  LANGUAGE  OF  THE  SOUL      231 

purpose  of  discovering  religious  or  philosophical  or 
ethical  truth,  or  for  the  enjoyment  of  beauty, —  as  a 
condition  superior  to  any  phase  of  communication  with 
fellow-minds.  We  can  see  its  partial  truth  in  the  case 
of  the  man  who  perceives  that  he  has  ideas  and  aspira- 
tions in  advance  of  those  current  among  others.  It  is 
evident  that  he  is  quite  right  in  believing  that  solitude 
or  inward  retirement  is  more  favorable  to  his  progress 
than  participation  in  the  babble  of  the  market-place  or 
street.  For  example,  the  man  who  to-day  wished  to 
form  a  just  estimate  of  the  faults  and  virtues  of  his 
nation's  enemies  would  certainly  do  well  to  retire  often 
from  the  Stock  Exchange,  or  the  political  gathering,  or 
the  fashionable  club.  To  withdraw  mind,  if  not  body, 
from  the  common  talk  of  these  assemblies  would  be 
necessary  to  the  formation  of  conclusions  characterised 
by  outstanding  justice  or  nobility.  Humility  would 
not  stand  in  the  way  of  his  knowing  that  he  had  within 
himself  a  higher  guide;  if  he  did  not  know  this  he 
would  be  blinded  by  folly. 

If,  however,  such  a  man  hugs  himself  and  is  satisfied 
in  such  retirement,  his  mistake  consists  in  his  ignorance 
of  the  fact  that  in  a  fellowship  of  souls,  as  eager  or 
more  eager  than  himself  for  justice  and  nobility  of 
mental  attitude,  he  would  attain  to  still  higher  Insight, 
and  be  able  to  form  truer  conclusions.  Under  the 
stimulus  of  this  higher  fellowship  individual  variation 
of  thought  would  find  constantly  increasing  power  of 
expression,  and  would  thus  become  more,  not  less, 
distinctive.  Thus  we  see  that  while  the  superiority 
of  self-communion  embodies  a  very  Important  truth, 
taken  by  itself  it  forms  a  half-truth  which  amounts 
to  pernicious  falsehood;  for  communion  with  others 
is  necessary  to  the  soul. 

Yet  further,  it  is  essential  to  the  development  of  the 
soul  that  it  should  learn  expression  in  all  ways  and  on 
all  aspects  of  life.  That  is  why  the  small  community 
of   select   souls,    exceedingly   valuphle    as   it   is,    is   not 


232  inr:  spiRir  vn 

an  end  in  itself.  The  truth  learned  in  such  a  fellow- 
ship nuist  be  made  explicable  to  the  world.  The  outer 
world  must  constantly  be  bcinjr  drawn  into  the  fellow- 
ship, or  else  the  members,  having  no  universal  aim,  will 
be  satisfied  with  only  that  partial  expression  necessary 
for  their  mutual  understanding.  Ihe  individual  re- 
main dwarfed  except  as  a  member  of  a  "  beloved  com- 
munity," and  the  loving  community  degenerates  except 
when  it  seeks  to  save  the  world. 

The  Language  of  Action 

Because  the  need  of  self-expression  is  so  imperative 
it  follows  that  action  must  be  used  when  words  fail. 
While  power  of  expression  and  consequent  understand- 
ing will  always  increase  by  communion  between  differ- 
ent minds,  it  will  always  lag  behind  power  of  insight. 
As  we  have  seen,  the  suggestions  of  poetry  carry  us 
beyond  the  precise  meaning  of  the  words  in  which  it  is 
expressed,  and  the  language  of  action  comes  in  to  aid 
when  words  fail  utterly.  Thus  poetry  lies  upon  the 
border  line  between  the  language  of  speech  and  the 
language  of  action.  True  poetry  is  not  written  about 
anything  that  can  be  fully  said  in  words;  it  is  the  use  of 
words  to  suggest  what  lies  just  beyond  their  power  to 
express.  It  gives  us  pictures  of  things  that  are  like 
other  things  for  which  there  is  no  picture;  and  when 
these  things  are  the  great  and  deep  realities  of  life,  and 
the  pictures  that  poetry  presents  create  an  adequate 
suggestion  of  what  cannot  be  pictured.  It  is  great 
poetry.  But  just  beyond  the  language  of  poetry  there 
is  the  "language  of  look  and  of  gesture  and  of  the  action 
that  "  speaks  louder  than  words."  We  understand 
our  own  laughter  and  tears  as  a  language  expressing 
amusement  or  sorrow  when  words  for  these  fail  us. 
Not  very  long  ago  human  laughter  was  used  to  express 
happiness  when  that  transcended  words,  but  at  present 
in  our  civilisation  we  only  use  laughter  for  the  particu- 
lar kind  of  joy  we  call  amusement;  other  and  deeper 


VII       THE  LANGUAGE  OF  THE  SOUL      233 

joy  has  neither  word  nor  sound.     The   language   of 
tears  is  also  inadequate.     When  Wordsworth  says: 

To  me  the  meanest  flower  that  blows  can   give 
Thoughts  that  do  often  lie  too  deep  for  tears, 

he  is  expressing  the  Inadequacy  that  we  all  recognise  of 
even  the  language  of  tears. 

And  the  mind  as  well  as  the  body  has  Its  gestures 
Inexpressible  In  words;  indeed,  as  men  develop  more 
self-control  they  express  themselves  less  and  less  In  the 
glance  and  In  bodily  gesture,  but  the  mind  retains  its 
downward  and  its  upward  look.  Its  Inquiring  look,  its 
look  of  love.  We  speak  of  aspiration,  of  pessimism, 
of  curiosity,  or  adoration,  and  perhaps  we  do  not 
always  realise  that  these  are  merely  words  for  the  way 
in  which  the  eyes  of  the  soul  act  toward  what  Is  just 
beyond  the  soul's  power  of  verbal  expression.  We 
speak  of  the  feeling  of  being  baffled,  the  feeling  of 
being  on  the  verge  of  illumination,  the  feeling  of 
Impulsion  toward  we  know  not  what,  and  many  other 
phrases  we  use  to  describe  what  are  really  gestures  of 
the  mind.  Inarticulate  gestures  like  the  dropping  of  the 
arms  when  effort  Is  useless,  like  the  stretching  out  of 
the  arms  to  denote  a  yearning  to  receive,  like  the  atti- 
tude of  alertness  assumed  by  a  messenger  when  waiting 
for  the  word  of  command. 

Every  man  has  within  himself  unappeasable  desires 
for  beauty,  for  truth,  for  generosity,  and  in  his  attitude 
toward  these  he  seeks  to  express  in  action  what  he  can- 
not express  In  words.  All  art  is,  in  a  sense,  the  lan- 
guage of  action;  by  music  and  painting  we  express  our 
unspoken  conceptions  of  the  best.  Art  must  be  indi- 
vidual or  it  Is  nothing — "  Le  style  c'est  I'homme." 
What  Is  not  original  genius  is  valueless  as  art,  and 
every  man  and  woman  is  In  some  asjicct  of  life  an  artist. 

Now  if  the  soul  in  rcgartl  to  Its  deepest  Inward 
individual  experience  and  aspirations  cannot  do  without 
the  language  of  action,  it  is  cjulte  certain  that  it  cannot 


234  THE  SPIRIT  vii 

do  without  this  form  of  language  In  any  phase  of  com- 
munal lite.  It  is  for  the  topics  men  have  in  common 
that  such  language  is  most  in  use.  In  corporate  life 
the  meaning  of  actions  must  be  agreed  upon.  Caresses 
such  as  mothers  give  to  children  are  understood  the 
world  over,  except  in  a  few  savage  tribes.  The  shak- 
ing of  the  fist,  the  menace  of  the  eye,  the  toss  of  the 
head  in  scorn,  the  bowing  of  the  head  in  shame  or  shy- 
ness, the  handclasp  of  friendship  —  all  these  are  signs 
of  a  language  which  is  common  to  Western  nations. 
If  by  some  process  of  rigorous  training  a  clique  in  so- 
ciety reaches  the  point  where  such  signs  are  in  abeyance, 
we  know  that  vitality  in  that  class  is  waning,  and  that 
what  was  artificial  and  cold  has  taken  the  place  of  the 
natural  and  warm-hearted.  On  the  other  hand,  where 
such  language  of  action  is  violent  it  is  also  crude,  and  as 
it  becomes  subtle,  with  more  various  gradations  ex- 
pressing more,  it  is,  for  that  very  reason,  more  re- 
strained. For  whatever  purpose  men  are  associated 
together,  some  common  language  of  action  is  necessary 
to  them.  What  would  public  life  be  without  cheers 
and  handclapping  and  groans?  What  would  social 
life  be  without  the  dance  of  festivity  and  the  slow  pro- 
cession that  follows  the  bier? 

It  is  most  important  to  observe  that  all  this  necessary 
language  of  action  is  expressive  and  wholesome  only  so 
far  as  it  is  both  natural  in  its  mode  and  spontaneous  at 
the  time  of  action;  and  in  so  far  as  it  is  both  these  it 
will  always  be  both  traditional  and  ready  to  break 
with  tradition  —  that  is  to  say,  it  will  be  handed  down, 
like  the  language  of  words,  from  one  generation  to 
another,  and  at  the  same  time,  like  the  language  of 
words,  it  will  be  undergoing  ceaseless  modifications. 
It  goes  without  saying  that  a  language  will  remain 
fundamentally  the  same  from  generation  to  generation. 
The  English  language  has  been  the  same  language 
through  all  its  developments,  although  Beowulf  could 
not  be  read  easily  in  the  fifteenth  century,  or  Chaucer 


VII       THE  LANGUAGE  OF  THE  SOUL     235 

in  the  eighteenth.  Nor  did  its  changes  come  by  mere 
individual  pleasure;  variations  had  to  be  approved  by 
the  corporate  sense  of  the  community  before  they  be- 
came part  of  the  national  language. 

On  the  other  hand,  it  is  to  be  noted  that  whenever 
naturalness  and  popular  variation  in  the  use  of  words 
is  not  tolerated,  and  some  classic  standard  is  rigidly 
adhered  to  by  the  educated,  the  art  of  speech  becomes 
the  artificial  practice  of  a  few.  It  moves  stiffly,  like  a 
man  walking  on  stilts.  One  who  talks  and  writes  in 
that  way  may  be  admired  for  singular  dexterity,  but  he 
can  company  only  with  the  few  who  also  walk  on 
stilts.  Great  literature  is  not  produced  in  periods 
when  men  seek  to  conform  their  whole  diction  to  rules 
of  speech  bequeathed  by  a  former  age,  but  when  popu- 
lar language  is  virile  and  growing. 

So  it  is  with  the  language  of  action.  It  is,  of  course, 
traditional,  handed  down  from  father  to  son,  and  yet  it 
is  mutable.  There  are  at  different  periods,  in  different 
classes  of  society,  mannerisms  which  remain  fixed  till 
they  are  lifeless  and  become  the  symptoms  of  social 
decadence.  Certain  Oriental  habits  of  obeisance  and 
compliment,  which  are  senselessly  repeated  generation 
after  generation  at  great  expense  of  time  and  energy, 
could  not  be  tolerated  by  a  nation  in  a  vital,  alert,  and 
progressive  state.  In  the  West  we  have  had  our 
social  rituals,  both  in  courts  and  cottages.  At  the  time 
they  arise  such  rituals  express  truly  the  taste,  dignity, 
and  sense  of  order  of  those  who  use  them,  but  as  rigid 
survivals  they  express  nothing,  and  are  thrown  off  when 
there  is  a  revival  of  vitality. 

All  this  applies  equally  to  the  rituals  of  religion. 
We  have  seen  that  the  deeper  and  more  instinctive  our 
outgoing  impulse  toward  any  object  of  desire,  the  more 
it  becomes  mixed  up  in  our  thought  with  all  else  de- 
sirable. Hence  the  most  inexpressible  outflow  of  the 
heart  is  toward  the  source  of  all  good  things,  i.e.  toward 
what  constitutes  Ciod  to  each  soul.      It  is  thus  most  of 


236  THE  SPIRIT  vii 

all  in  religion,  whatever  a  man's  rclip^ion  may  be,  that 
the  lanp^iage  of  action  is  most  necessary.  Accordingly 
we  find  that  wherever  religion  has  emerged  as  some- 
thing which  requires  separate  associations  and  separate 
treatment  from  the  rest  of  life,  it  has  had  its  separate 
phraseology,  its  separate  poetry,  and  its  separate  lan- 
guage of  action. 

All  evidence,  both  historic  and  psychological,  goes 
to  show  that  personal  or  corporate  religion  must  find 
expression  not  only  in  words  but  in  rites.  He  who 
believes  that  for  all  men  religion  would  be  better  or 
purer  if  it  ceased  to  find  expression  in  the  language  of 
action  is  surely  mistaken.  He  is  doubtless  right  in  his 
disapproval  of  a  merely  conventional  language  of  ac- 
tion or  rigid  ritual,  but  wrong  in  supposing  that  men  do 
not  require  to  give  their  religion  the  fullest  expression 
of  which  they  are  capable.  Religion  needs  to  employ 
the  language  of  reason,  as  precise  and  as  full  as  it 
can  be  made,  the  language  of  art,  which  carries  into 
different  regions  of  the  depth  and  height,  and  the 
language  of  action,  which  is  like  a  hand  pointing  to 
the  distance  where  clear  vision  fails,  like  a  hand  held 
behind  the  ear  in  the  consciousness  of  a  music  whose 
vibrations  are  barely  audible.  Looking  upon  the  past, 
we  see  that  wherever  religion  has,  by  the  clearer  vision 
of  some  great  prophet,  received  a  new  start  and  a  new 
impulse,  it  has  begun  at  once  to  form  a  certain  language 
of  its  own,  using  the  common  speech  to  express  as  well 
as  may  be  its  new  ideas,  giving  old  words  new  meanings 
and  coining  words  by  new  combinations  of  syllables. 
It  has  also  produced  a  new  poetry  and  a  new  art;  but 
even  before  these  have  come  into  being  it  has  had  new 
ceremonies  and  rites.  Psychologically  it  is  not  possible 
that  it  should  be  otherwise;  historically  we  see  that  it 
has  always  been  so. 

What  is  a  Symbol? 

There  is  an  idea  prevalent  that  a  symbol  is  something 
that  pretends  to  be  some  other  thing  which  it  is  not, 


VII       THE  LANGUAGE  OF  THE  SOUL     237 

or,  to  speak  more  accurately,  that  it  is  something  which 
is  set  up  or*used  as  a  pretence  for  something  else.  Just 
as  a  child,  for  example,  who  wraps  a  kerchief  round  a 
poker  and  nurses  it,  pretends  that  the  poker  is  a  doll, 
or  as  a  child  may  nurse  a  doll  pretending  it  is  a  baby. 
We  are  told  that  in  the  rites  of  initiation  practised  by 
nations  in  a  certain  stage  of  development,  men  use 
the  heads  of  fierce  animals  as  masks,  and,  pretending 
to  be  the  animal  personated,  get  carried  away  by  the 
excitement  of  the  ceremonies  into  the  belief  that,  for 
the  time  being,  they  really  are  the  animal  they  pretend 
to  be. 

Now,  in  these  three  instances,  the  poker,  the  doll, 
and  the  head  of  the  lion  or  bull  are  properly  not  sym- 
bols at  all;  they  are  toys  which  a  child-like  imagination, 
always  ready  with  its  make-believe,  determines  for  the 
time  to  regard  as  something  which  they  are  not. 

A  symbol,  on  the  other  hand,  is  something  which 
manifests  to  human  sense  a  non-sensuous  reality;  and 
the  truest  symbols  are  those  things  in  human  life  which 
are  the  most  natural  manifestations  of  the  unseen 
reality. 

A  national  flag  is  a  symbol  of  the  national  ideal  so 
long  as  the  great  majority  of  the  nation  can  unite  in  an 
ideal  for  which  one  symbol  may  stand.  When  there  is 
civil  war  the  same  flag  cannot  be  the  symbol  of  oppos- 
ing ideas,  and  two  will  be  necessary,  e.g.  the  red  flag  of 
Socialism  has  often  opposed  a  national  banner.  A  flag, 
however,  is  in  essence  a  military  symbol;  in  its  begin- 
ning it  was  a  banner  held  aloft  in  order  that  the  fol- 
lowers of  chieftain  or  king  might  rally  round  him.  Al- 
though it  has  long  been  used  in  time  of  peace  to  rally 
the  forces  of  national  sentiment,  as  in  primitive  times 
it  was  used  to  rally  the  force  of  their  spears,  it  is  still 
an  anti-foreign  sentiment  to  which  it  usually  and  natu- 
rally appeals.  It  is  quite  possible  that  when  all  swords 
are  beaten  into  ploughshares  flags  will  become  as  much 
relics  of  the  past  as  are  the  emblems  of  heraldry  to-day, 


238  Till-:  SPIRIT  VII 

and  nations  will  c\'olvc  new  symbols  more  consonant 
A\ith  their  ideals.  The  point  to  be  noted,  however,  is 
that  there  is  no  pretence  that  a  flag  is  what  it  is  not. 
The  British  flag  is  not,  and  does  not  pretend  to  be, 
British  justice  or  British  honesty  or  British  kindliness 
or  British  honour  or  power;  but  these  realities,  tre- 
mendous though  they  are,  are  unseen;  they  are  spiritual 
realities  which,  by  reason  of  their  nature,  can  only  be 
made  actual  to  our  senses  by  a  visible  and  material 
symbol.  The  crew  of  a  wrecked  ship,  drifting  with- 
out compass  and  without  star  upon  the  sea,  if  it  came 
in  sight  of  shore  or  ship  on  which  our  flag  was  waving, 
would  have  no  doubt  whatever  as  to  the  invisible  reali- 
ties for  which  it  stands  and  of  which  it  is  the  accepted 
manifestation. 

The  other  point  about  the  flag  is  that,  although  it 
may  now  seem  a  purely  arbitrary  symbol,  it  was  at  first 
chosen  as  the  most  natural  and  convenient  expression 
of  tribal  unity.  It  was  as  natural  for  a  chieftain  in  war 
to  wave  some  particular  colour  to  rally  his  particular 
men  as  it  is  for  a  rabbit  to  display  the  white  lining  of 
her  tail  when  she  runs  before  her  little  ones  to  guide 
them  to  safety.  Further,  as  no  cumbrous  object  could 
be  carried  into  battle,  it  was  necessary  to  use  cloth  that 
could  be  unfurled  and  furled.  In  so  far  as  our  symbol 
of  nationality  needs  to  be  carried  about  and  waved 
aloft  to-day,  a  flag  is  for  the  same  reason  necessary; 
nothing  else  would  practically  do  as  well. 

If  we  want  to  understand  further  the  true  nature  of 
a  symbol  we  may  examine  some  symbols  which  seem 
to  us  still  more  natural  than  the  flag.  Take  a  mother 
caressing  her  child.  She  kisess  the  little  one:  the  kiss 
is  not  her  affection,  it  is  only  a  symbol.  If  the  mother 
knew  herself  to  be  the  prey  of  some  infectious  disease, 
she  would  love  the  child  just  as  much,  but  she  would 
not  kiss  it.  If  a  cold-hearted  nurse  found  it  to  her 
interest  to  pretend  to  love  the  child,  she  would  caress 
it  although  she  did  not  love  it.      Caresses  are  not  love; 


VII       THE  LANGUAGE  OF  THE  SOUL     239 

they  are  its  natural  symbol,  and,  like  all  symbols,  when 
honestly  used  they  make  manifest  a  great  reality. 

Again,  let  us  take  any  of  those  things  acknowledged 
to  be  the  customary  signs  of  a  certain  relation  between 
people.  Friends  clasp  each  others'  hands;  domestic 
servants  stand  in  the  presence  of  their  employers.  The 
hand-grasp  is  not  friendship,  though  it  can  be  made  to 
symbolise  every  varying  degree  of  friendship.  If  a 
man's  hands  are  otherAvise  occupied,  or  if  he  have  lost 
the  use  of  them,  no  one  would  suspect.the  absence  of 
the  hand-shake  to  indicate  any  necessary  alteration  in 
his  friendship.  An  English  servant  stands  before  his 
employer  because  that  is  his  way  of  symbolising  his 
loyalty  to  the  engagement  he  has  entered  into  to  be 
alert  to  carry  out  the  other's  wishes:  in  some  parts  of 
America  a  man  with  another  training,  who  had  entered 
into  a  similar  engagement  and  with  the  same  loyalty 
at  heart,  would  remain  seated  in  a  lounging  attitude. 

Symbols,  then,  of  necessity  enter  largely  into  the 
daily  life  of  any  community  that  has  a  past  in  common. 
Certain  actions  have  come  to  stand  as  the  expression  of 
certain  inner  realities.  The  expression  is  in  no  sense  a 
pretence;  it  is  the  only  way,  or  at  least  the  commonly 
accepted  way,  of  manifesting  forth  a  reality  which 
otherwise  could  not  be  seen  or  heard  or  touched. 

Christi.*\n  Language  of  Action 

Not  long  ago  two  girls  sat  by  my  fireside  talking 
of  sacramental  religion.  The  elder  ended  the  conversa- 
tion by  saying,  "  Our  Lord  commanded  us  to  do  these 
things;  that  is  why  we  do  them."  She  spoke  with 
shining  face  and  serene  faith;  but  when  she  had  left 
the  room  the  other  spoke  in  passionate  disagreement 
in  words  like  these.  "  Every  educated  person  knows 
that  we  do  not  know  precisely  what  words  our  Lord 
used,  and  I  lis  meaning  needs  interpretation.  As  to 
St.  Paul,  when  he  could  make  so  big  a  mistake  about 
the  Second  Coming  he  niay  easily  have  made  mistakes 


240 


THE  SPIRIT  VII 


about  the  Sacraments.  T  cannot  honestly  do  what 
seems  meaningless  to  -me  upon  mere  ecclesiastical 
authority."  I  think  we  must  admit  that  the  first  of 
these  girls  represents  a  dwindling  minority,  the  second 
a  growing  majority  of  earnest-minded  young  people, 
for  a  very  small  proportion  of  the  young  now  frequent 
our  churches.  Can  we  face  this  fact  without  fear? 
Have  we  any  need  for  fear  if  we  appeal  to  truth  rather 
than  to  mere  tradition? 

All  religions  have  a  language  of  action.  Christianity 
is  no  exception  to  the  rule,  and  it  will  be  worth  while 
to  consider  how  far  its  rites  are  natural  and  appro- 
priate. 

If  we  had  no  record  of  its  early  days,  If  there  were 
no  written  command  that  we  could  even  suppose  to  be 
the  authentic  fiat  of  Its  founder,  If  all  that  we  know 
about  It  was  the  main  emphasis  of  Its  Idealism,  we 
might  yet  make  a  shrewd  guess  at  what  its  peculiar 
language  of  action  would  at  first  be.  The  privilege  of 
companionship  with  God,  the  duty  and  privilege  of 
fellowship  with  men,  one  dependent  on  the  other,  and 
the  joy  of  both,  is  certainly  the  main  theme  of  the 
earliest  Christian  teaching.  This  is  commonly  ex- 
pressed as  the  Fatherhood  of  God  and  the  brotherhood 
of  man;  and  thus  expressed  the  two  elements  are  seen 
to  be  one  theme,  one  Idea  —  that  of  God's  family  on 
earth. 

But  to  love  God  and  to  love  man  Is  an  art;  it  is  the 
very  art  of  living;  It  Is  the  art  at  which  all  religions 
and  all  civilisations  have  been  aiming;  for  by  love  we 
mean,  not  only  a  certain  personal  liking,  but  such 
goodwill  that  kindness  must  govern  all  the  changeful 
moods  and  developments  of  life.  The  common  life  of 
men  who  love  displays  harmony,  not  only  in  chords 
here  and  there,  but  throughout  all  the  movement  of 
the  symphony  of  public  and  private  life.  All  laws, 
all  morals,  all  rituals  have  been  efforts  to  get  rid  of 
discord,  to  set  the  movement  and  development  of  the 


VII       THE  LANGUAGE  OF  THE  SOUL     241 

individual  life  or  the  community  life  free  from  the 
clash  and  anguish  of  the  antagonistic  elements  that 
hamper  life.  When  primitive  man  realised  the  fear 
of  the  unseen  he  had  to  invent  modes  of  propitiating 
the  supposed  anger  of  spirits.  When  the  individual 
quarrel  or  family  feud  weakened  the  tribe,  some  court 
of  justice  was  set  up,  so  that  within  the  tribe  there 
might  be  peace.  The  effort  to  get  agreement  in  greater 
and  greater  areas  of  common  life  was  not  only  the 
beginning  but  the  method  of  each  successive  stage  in 
all  religion  and  all  civilisation. 

The  world  into  which  Christianity  came  was  civilised 
and  religious;  a  world  also  in  which  communities  of 
people,  not  satisfied  with  the  general  conception  of 
civilisation  and  religion,  were  on  all  sides  setting  up 
brotherhoods  —  the  so-called  Mystery  Religions  — 
with  elaborate  secret  ways  of  getting  into  harmony  with 
God  and  with  each  other.  The  joy  and  simplicity  of 
the  main  Christian  idea  was  the  recognition  that  the 
art  of  living  harmoniously  with  God  and  man  was  not 
recondite,  was  not  a  secret  shut  off  from  the  common 
man  by  mysterious  initiations  or  by  long  and  severe 
disciplines,  but  was  very  near  to  all  men,  something  that 
would  spring  up  spontaneously  in  the  lives  of  men  who 
sought  it,  the  very  reign  of  God  within  the  heart,  which 
would  be  expressed  in  all  the  simple  and  common 
things  of  life.  Yet  in  the  very  hour  in  which  the 
inspiration  and  technique  of  this  fine  art  of  living 
joyfully  and  freely  with  God  and  man  was  seen  to  be 
possible  to  the  common  man,  the  one  reason  of  his 
failure  so  to  live  was  seen  also.  When  it  was  realised 
that  the  Spirit  of  God  was  the  love  that  attracted  but 
did  not  compel,  it  was  realised  that  man's  failure  to 
be  its  instrument  was  due  to  those  habits  of  ill-will 
and  repulsive  antagonisms  in  forming  which  he  had 
forged  his  own  chains.  Jesus  taught  that  goodwill  to 
men  was  a  necessary  condition  of  divine  inspiration.^ 

1  Mark    xi.    ^5. 


242  THE  SPIRIT  VII 

His  followers  came  to  see  that  aspiration  and  desire 
were  in  antagonism  to  habits  which  the  Jew  naturally 
called  "  sin  "  and  the  Greek  called  "  ignorance."  So 
that  the  second  main  idea  of  Christianity  became  the 
need  of  getting  rid  of  these  habits  of  ill-will.  Intense 
desire  was  naturally  felt  for  some  way  of  leaving  sin 
behind,  as  one  would  leave  the  soil  of  dirty  work  in 
the  water  of  a  bath  before  joining  the  family  meal. 

These  two  main  ideas  —  the  joy  of  life  in  God's 
family,  and  the  getting  rid  of  habits  of  ill-will  in  order 
to  enjoy  it  —  had  a  very  natural  language  of  action  in 
the  feast  of  the  Eucharist,  and  in  washing  as  a  rite  of 
initiation  into  the  community. 

In  thinking  of  early  Christianity  as  instinct  with 
these  two  ideas,  we  realise  that  the  early  sense  of  joy  in 
them  would  not  only  necessarily  imply,  but  in  reality  be, 
an  outgoing  of  affection  and  loyalty  to  the  Master  who 
had  so  pushed  back  the  veil  of  confused  human  think- 
ing, so  dissipated  the  murk  arising  from  deified  ill-will, 
as  to  bring  their  sunlight  to  earth.  No  language  of 
action  could  grow  up  in  such  a  community  that  was  not 
centred  in  His  memory,  so  that  the  natural  expression 
of  the  truth  that  He  had  revealed  might  easily  come  to 
be  spoken  of  as  memorials  of  this,  or  as  acts  done  in 
obedience  to  His  verbal  commands,  even  if  no  proof  of 
such  commands  survived. 

So  far  we  can  see  how  the  Christian  Sacraments 
would  come  into  being,  and  therefore  we  can  the  more 
easily  believe  that  they  were  given  by  the  Master. 
His  insight  into  the  heart  of  man  and  the  ways  of 
God  was  too  deep  to  find  expression  in  arbitrary  com- 
mands. Can  the  various  phases  of  Church  teaching 
concerning  these  Sacraments  be  shown  to  be  psycho- 
logically natural? 

We  are  familiar  with  the  human  habit  of  calling  two 
ideas  when  closely  associated  by  the  name  of  one,  or 
using  the  picture  of  something  that  can  be  pictured 
to  stand  more  especially  for  something  that  cannot  be 


VII       THE  LANGUAGE  OF  THE  SOUL     243 

pictured.  Thus  we  speak  of  "  the  State,"  meaning  the 
liberties  and  securities  and  the  unifying  of  many  into 
one  for  which  the  State  stands,  and  also  its  political 
machinery  and  material  defences;  but  most  of  our 
language  concerning  it  presents  to  the  mind's  eye,  not 
the  great  ideas  which  make  the  State  of  value,  but  the 
machinery  which  has  been  created  —  the  mere  instru- 
ment of  ideas.  In  periods  of  national  deadness  the 
ideas  are  more  and  more  lost  sight  of,  and  the  ma- 
chinery becomes  an  end  in  itself. 

In  all  personal  affection  the  body  and  soul  and 
thoughts  of  the  object  of  our  affection  are  welded 
into  a  unity  not  to  be  dissociated  in  thought :  we  love  — 
not  the  body,  nor  the  soul,  nor  the  thoughts  of  a  friend 
—  but  we  love  him  or  her. 

But  most  of  our  language  referring  to  the  soul  pre- 
sents to  "  our  mind's  eye  "  only  the  body: 

Now  my  soul  hath  elbow-room. 

King  John,  Act  v.  Sc.  7. 

I'll  wear  my  heart  upon  my  sleeve  for  daws  to  peck  at. 

Othello,  Act  i.  Sc.  I. 

Friends,  Romans,  countrymen,  lend  me  your  ears. 

Julius  Caesar. 

I  saw  Othello's  visage  in  his  mind. 

Othello,  Act  i.  Sc.  3. 

Drink  to  me  only  with  thine  eyes. 

To  Celia. 

Such  language  understood  figuratively  when  life  beats 
high  becomes  pernicious  when  life  is  flat  and  uninspired. 
It  helps  us  to  lose  sight  of  all  that  in  the  reality  of 
things  not  only  ought  to  make,  but  does  make,  the 
body  dear.  Thus  in  uninspired  times  of  the  Church 
we  naturally  find  an  exaltation  of  the  body  of  Jesus 
in  the  interpretation  of  the  Sacrament  of  the  Eucharist, 
without  submission  to  His  spirit. 

Again,  wc  see  the  same  with  regard  to  truth  and 
personality.     Wc  closely  associate  our  heroes  with  that 


244  THE  SPIRIT  vil 

truth  for  which  they  stood,  not  only  by  virtue  of 
the  law  of  association,  but  because  a  man  is  the  truth 
tliat  he  takes  his  stand  upon.  It  is  something  in- 
herent in  his  soul  which  causes  that  ray  of  light  to 
burst  through  him  to  the  world,  something  inherent 
in  his  character  that  causes  him  to  be  the  living  ex- 
ponent of  the  truth  he  reveals.  Just  as  the  body  is 
the  expression  and  instrument  of  the  soul  and  is  there- 
fore rightly  reverenced  as  the  vehicle  of  a  soul  worthy 
of  reverence  and  adoration,  so,  in  a  closer  sense,  a 
man's  character  revealed  in  his  action  and  teaching 
is  the  expression  of  such  part  of  God's  eternal  truth 
as  the  prism  of  his  soul  lets  through.  But  here  again 
the  language  we  use  naturally  pictures  for  us,  not 
the  invisible  truth,  but  the  man  speaking  and  acting; 
and  wherever  hero-worship  degenerates,  the  truth 
which  was  an  inseparable  part  of  the  man  himself  is 
lost  sight  of,  and  the  name  and  perhaps  one  or  two 
dramatic  actions  of  the  hero  become  objects  of  rever- 
ence in  themselves  to  thousands  who  are  not  actuated 
by  the  truth  that  he  made  his  own.  This  Is  proved  by 
the  fact  that  nearly  all  proverbs  in  which  great  men  are 
remembered  leave  out  their  true  greatness  — "A  Daniel 
come  to  judgement';  "Alexander  weeping  for  fresh 
worlds  to  conquer";  "As  meek  as  Moses."  Thus  in 
many  Catholic  countries  we  get  genuine  enthusiasm  for 
the  name  of  Christ  as  honoured  in  the  Eucharist  among 
populations  rife  with  cheating  and  adultery  and 
quarrels  of  every  kind.  It  is  found  on  inquiry  that  in 
such  communities  little  is  known  of  Jesus  except  the 
dramatic  stories  of  His  birth  and  death. 

What  is  curious  in  this  whole  process  of  substituting 
the  seen  for  the  unseen  is  that  those  who  lose  sight  of 
the  spirit  and  adore  the  visible  expression  as  something 
sacred  in  itself,  proceed  to  impugn,  as  a  violation  of 
this  sanctity,  any  teaching  that  body  can  only  be  an 
evanescent  expression  of  the  soul;  and  when  they  come 
to  worship  merely  the  name  and  the  dramatic  actions 


VII       THE  LANGUAGE  OF  THE  SOUL      245 

of  their  heroes,  they  regard  those  heroes  as  in  some 
way  profaned  if  the  truth  in  which  they  lived  and 
which  they  disseminated  be  greatly  magnified.  In  our 
own  Church  to-day  we  find  many  who  deprecate  insis- 
tence upon  the  fatherhood  of  God  and  the  brotherhood 
of  man,  because  they  imagine  that  the  Cross  and  Atone- 
ment and  Sacramental  Grace  will  be  belittled  thereby. 
In  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ  we  see  a  character  able  to 
perceive  and  assimilate,  not  some  one  particular  ray  of 
the  eternal  light,  but  the  light  itself.  Truth,  as  far  as 
it  concerned  the  relation  of  God  and  man,  formed  His 
soul  and  thus  became  one  with  Himself.  What  He 
seems  to  have  seen  in  constant  vision  was  the  whole 
concrete  harmony  which  would  be  effected  by  the 
Spirit's  unfettered  activity,  and  which  He  called  "  the 
kingdom  of  heaven."  His  truth-seeing,  truth-assimi- 
lating soul  was  manifested  naturally  in  a  body  symbolic 
of  ideal  humanity,  whose  presence  brought  joy  and 
peace,  whose  touch  was  health.  If,  then,  we  do  not 
lose  sight  of  the  truth  of  the  kingdom,  or  forget  that 
body  must  always  be  a  transient  vehicle  of  spirit,  we 
are  right  in  seeing  in  Jesus  Christ  the  way,  the  truth, 
the  life.  But  to  find,  amid  the  various  vicissitudes  of 
the  society  He  founded,  discrepant  phases  of  devotion 
to  Him  is  only  what  we  should  expect.  We  should 
expect  to  find  times  when  the  body  of  the  beloved 
would  stand  for  the  spirit  and  would  veil  any  adequate 
perception  of  that  spirit.  And,  again,  we  are  not  sur- 
prised to  find  that  some  picturesque  expression  of  cer- 
tain phases  of  the  action  and  passion  of  our  Lord  have 
at  times  been  allowed  to  eclipse  the  eternal  truth  of 
which  He  was  the  manifestation.  These  vicissitudes, 
patent  in  the  history  of  Christian  doctrine,  are  all 
chronicled  also  in  the  various  phases  of  the  Christian 
ceremonial  which  grew  up  around  the  rites  of  Baptism 
and  the  I''ucharist;  and  because  the  interpretation  of 
that  language,  and  the  consequent  usages  that  have 
grown  up  in  connection  with  it,  have  passed  through 


246  THE  SPIRIT  vii 

these  various  phases  of  partiality  and  succeeding 
falsity,  it  is  not  surprising  that  many  of  the  most 
earnest  lovers  of  the  Master  should  hegin  to  feel  that 
the  language  of  action  is  so  likely  to  become  misleading 
as  to  be  in  itself  undesirable,  or  at  least  unnecessary. 
But  such  an  attitude,  though  natural  as  a  reaction 
against  crude  and  mechanical  conceptions,  goes  too  far. 
Sacramental  language  is  in  itself  of  surpassing  value, 
and  it  cannot  mislead  so  long  as  Jesus  Christ,  His  out- 
ward manifestation,  and  the  great  truths  for  which 
He  stood,  are  all  recognised  as  one  object  of  devotion, 
and  so  long  as  it  is  not  stereotyped  by  a  rigid,  unalter- 
able tradition. 

Christian  Ceremonial 

In  all  religions  the  language  of  action  is  complex, 
and  Christianity  is  no  exception.  Ordinarily  Chris- 
tians observe  a  somewhat  long  ceremony  of  mingled 
words  and  acts.  We  have  just  discovered  two  points 
necessary  to  ceremonial  vitality:  (i)  its  words  must 
express  such  thoughts  and  feelings  as  are  common  to 
the  worshippers;  and  (2)  there  must  be  constant  modi- 
fication of  its  words  and  actions  which  must  display 
both  the  traditional  and  the  revolutionary  character 
of  language. 

( I )  The  Christian  ceremonial  must  be  Christian  — 
i.e.  it  must  definitely  express  that  which  differentiates 
the  Christian  religion  from  other  religions,  even  where 
other  religions  express  truth.  Truth  when  vital  Is  not 
patient  of  abstraction;  no  part  of  It  can  be  dissociated 
from  the  rest;  so  that  we  cannot  with  accuracy  say 
that  minds  differing  really  and  vitally  from  one  another 
have  common  ground,  or  that  religions  differing  In  one 
basal  part  are  the  same  In  other  parts,  although  this 
way  of  speaking  Is  often  sufficiently  accurate  for  con- 
venience. Two  fields  may  be  green  with  the  same 
green  corn,  lying  In  the  same  sunshine;  but  If  one  field 
contains  a  splash  of  red  poppies  and  the  other  has  a 


VII       THE  LANGUAGE  OF  THE  SOUL     247 

grey  ruin  within  its  circumference,  the  green  of  the  two 
fields  will  be  seen  to  reflect  the  light  differently  because 
of  the  different  colours  with  which  it  is  contrasted. 
Two  men  may  be  equally  honest,  but  if  one  is  honest 
because  of  loyalty  to  his  neighbour  and  the  other 
because  he  wishes  to  be  respectable,  it  cannot  be  said 
that  their  honesty  is  in  reality  common  ground.  Men 
who  express  the  same  truths  differently  may,  in  reality, 
have  far  more  in  common  than  would  appear  from 
their  expression,  but  if  they  do  really  apprehend  any 
part  of  truth  differently,  the  whole  of  truth  that  they 
apprehend  will  be  modified  accordingly.  So,  while  it 
remains  true  that  many  who  sit  at  meat  in  the  kingdom 
may  be  found  to  come  from  the  East  of  a  nominal 
agnosticism  or  the  West  of  some  other  religion,  and 
many  of  the  children  of  the  profession  may  be  cast  out, 
it  still  must  also  remain  true  that  a  Christian  has  a 
special  way  of  apprehending  all  truth  v/hich  comes  to 
him  in  the  light  of  the  revelation  of  God  in  Christ,  and 
which  makes  a  permanent  difference  in  his  apprehension 
of  all  truth.  It  is  just  this  difference  which  ought  to 
be  expressed  in  the  Christian's  language  of  action. 
That  action  must  have  definite  relation  to  the  historic 
Jesus. 

(2)  The  details  of  the  ceremony  are  an  effort  to  in- 
terpret the  central  rite.  A  form  must  never  crystallise; 
when  it  does  so  It  ceases  to  be  spontaneous  speech  and 
becomes  rehearsal.  The  twofold  value  of  language 
is  that  while  It  registers  the  knowledge  attained  In 
the  past  it  is  also  an  aid  to  progressive  understanding, 
and  it  Is  not  in  mere  rehearsal  or  recitation  that  wc 
obtain  further  light  and  new  experiences.  It  Is  of  the 
very  essence  of  life  that  every  day  must  bring  the  cast- 
ing off  of  something  old,  the  acquirement  of  something 
new.  Wc  see  this  process  going  on  even  In  the  hills 
which  arc  called  eternal,  and  in  all  organic  nature.  In 
nature,  or  in  human  history,  there  is  no  real  repetition, 
but  the  incessant  and  permanent  use  of  the  same  simple 


24S  THE  SriRlT  VII 

elements  and  methods  to  produce  an  ever-increasing 
variety,  with  the  constant  change  toward  what  is  more 
worthy  or  towards  degeneration.  In  the  same  way 
ritual,  to  be  vital,  must,  while  making  permanent  use 
of  the  same  elements  and  methods,  be  always  passing 
into  some  new  phase,  always  leaving  some  older  phase 
behind.  It  is  no  valid  objection  to  the  ceremonial 
of  the  Latin  Mass  to  point  out  how  far  It  is  removed 
from  the  usage  of  the  second  century.  It  is  a  valid 
criticism  to  urge  that  in  an  ever-expanding  civilisation 
It  has  been  practically  at  a  standstill  for  a  thousand 
years. 

The  Psychological  Explanation  of  the 
Power  of  the  Sacraments 

In  an  earlier  generation  the  scientific  discoveries 
concerning  common  sequences  of  cause  and  effect  In  the 
visible  world  —  what  are  popularly  called  "laws  of 
nature  " — gravely  disturbed  the  religious  mind,  before 
the  new  knowledge  could  be  assimilated  to  what  was 
indestructible  in  the  old.  A  similar  disturbance  is  being 
caused  to-day  by  the  application  of  the  same  methods 
of  science  to  sequences  in  the  unseen  world  of  thought 
and  feeling,  especially  by  their  application  to  Christian 
religious  experience;  and  in  some  quarters  we  have  a 
repetition  of  the  old  mistake  —  the  desire  to  deny  the 
new  knowledge  or  to  insist  that  it  does  not  apply  to 
some  particular  sphere  of  fact.  It  is  unfortunate  that 
so  many  of  those  who  are  ardent  for  the  old  religious 
truth  should  be  ardent  also  for  that  old  religious  error 
—  the  error  of  refusing  to  learn  from  experience. 

But  whether  those  who  are  religious  desire  It  or  not, 
the  psychologists  will  bring  forward  what  they  call  their 
"  explanation  "  of  the  power  generated  by  Christian 
usages.  Attempts  to  consider  religious  practices  in  the 
light  of  the  newly  discovered  laws  of  Mental  Sugges- 
tion are  constantly  being  made.  We  are  told  that 
preaching  produces  Its  effects,  not  only  by  its  appeal  to 


VII       THE  LANGUAGE  OF  THE  SOUL      249 

reason,  but  by  the  power  of  quasi-hypnotic  suggestion; 
that  hymn-singing  has  the  effect  of  rendering  the  mind 
pecuHarly  open  to  suggestion;  that  the  power  of  prayer 
is  the  power  of  auto-suggestion;  and  that  the  power  of 
suggestion  is  an  explanation  peculiarly  applicable  to  the 
results  of  rites  and  ceremonies.  The  law  of  suggestion 
appears  to  be  this  —  The  potency  of  a  suggestion  upon 
an  individual  mind  at  any  given  time  corresponds  with 
the  quiescence  of  that  mind's  initiative  energy  at  the 
time  of  receiving  the  suggestion.  That  Is  to  say,  the 
more  the  energ)^  of  the  mind  is  being  expended  upon 
what  it  of  itself  wills  to  think  or  to  do,  the  less  It  Is  open 
to  suggestion;  the  more  its  initiative  energy  is  sus- 
pended, the  more  it  experiences  the  force  of  suggestion. 
All  traditional  forms  of  religious  ceremony  are  calcu- 
lated to  produce  both  quiescence  and  forceful  sugges- 
tion In  greater  or  less  degree.  Religious  ceremonies 
grow  as  the  grammar  of  any  language  grows,  and  their 
form  is  the  result  of  their  effectiveness.  They  survive 
because  they  are  fitted  to  survive.  When  the  potency 
of  a  ceremony,  or  the  effectiveness  of  any  portion  of 
It,  ceases,  men  neglect  it.  Ceremonies  are  potent  just 
in  the  degree  in  which  they  lead  the  mind  up  to  a 
moment  of  supreme  receptiveness,  and  lull  it  or  per- 
suade it  into  yielding  to  present  suggestion  offered  from 
without,  or  past  teaching  arising  within  the  soul  at  the 
receptive  moment. 

We  may  be  over-suggestible  by  nature,  i.e.  we  may 
be  Inclined  to  follow  every  suggestion  that  comes  to  us, 
as  is  a  happy  child,  without  exercising  rational  criticism 
on  our  own  inclination,  or  exerting  a  due  power  of  self- 
Initiation.  We  may  be  contra-suggestible  by  nature, 
i.e.  we  may  be  inclined  to  oppose  whatever  any  other 
human  being  suggests  to  us,  as  a  peevish  child  does, 
without  rational  criticism  of  our  own  disinclination  or 
attempting  to  exert  our  power  of  sel  f-initiation.  Or  we 
may  be  wcll-balanccd,  and  use  all  suggestion  merely  as 
grist  for  the  mill  of  instincti\c  or  reasoned  judgement. 


250 


THE  SPIRIl^  VII 


But  in  any  case  we  are  constantly  subject  to  suggestion; 
without  suggestion  from  outside  we  lose  individuality, 
our  faculties  atrophy.  But  suggestion  coming  upon  a 
distracted  mind,  over-busy  or  anxious,  has  no  force; 
and  just  as  hunger  previous  to  eating  is  necessary 
for  the  proper  assimilation  of  food  by  the  body,  so 
quiescence  before  receiving  suggestion  is  necessary  for 
the  full  force  of  the  suggestion  to  be  realised.  Experi- 
ence will  always  teach  religious  leaders,  by  degrees,  how 
to  produce  that  condition  of  mind  in  a  congregation 
without  which  any  ceremonial  is  ineffective.  The  mod- 
ern psvchologist  merely  discovers  and  explains  the  law 
by  which  the  Church  has  instinctively  worked  in  thus 
formalising  the  garnered  fruit  of  religious  experience. 

It  may  be  well  to  observe  that  this  whole  matter  is 
confused  in  the  minds  of  many  by  the  trivial  and  more 
or  less  accidental  fact  that  the  word  suggestion,  used  in 
this  scientific  sense,  first  became  popularised  in  connec- 
tion with  some  fart  —  and  much  exaggerated  fiction  — 
concerning  the  control  exercised  by  certain  charlatan 
hypnotists  over  hypnotic  subjects.  Such  instances  of 
the  tyrannical  power  wielded  over  innocent  subjects  by 
hypnotists  bear  the  same  relation  to  the  ordinary  laws 
of  mental  receptiveness  and  the  usefulness  of  suggestion 
that  sensational  instances  of  the  cruelty  of  parents  to 
children  bear  to  the  common  order  and  discipline  of 
every  nursery  and  schoolroom.  We  do  not  argue  that 
all  school  discipline  is  wrong  because  we  have  read  of 
Mr.  Squeers,  or  that  all  education  for  little  boys  is 
wrong  because  Paul  Dombey  and  others  in  the  same 
case  are  killed  by  mental  overwork;  but  this  is  the  sort 
of  argument  which  lies  behind  the  popular  prejudice 
against  the  idea. 

There  is,  however,  a  better  reason  why  a  number  of 
well-informed  people  are  afraid  to  admit  that  mental 
quiescence  and  mental  suggestion  are  the  method  by 
which  the  Spirit  uses  religious  ceremonial.  The  con- 
stant effort  of  pietists  in  religion  and  pietists  m  politics, 


VII       THE  LANGUAGE  OF  THE  SOUL     251 

of  the  demagogue  and  newspaper  writer,  to  govern  the 
world,  or  what  little  part  of  the  world  is  in  their  power, 
by  abuse  of  the  law  of  suggestion  —  making  appeal  to 
the  emotions  of  the  masses  while  the  facts  on  which 
they  might  form  a  rational  judgement  are  withheld  — 
—  has  always  been  a  serious  evil  in  human  society,  and 
is  perhaps  the  worst  evil  of  our  modern  life.  It  is  the 
spirit  of  pseudo-  or  anti-democracy  in  Church  and  State, 
which,  feigning  to  be  true  democracy,  deceives  the  very 
elect.  In  the  Christian  Church  this  abuse  of  the  power 
of  suggestion  to  arouse  party  spirit  might  indeed  be 
called  Antichrist.  But  such  abuse  of  physical  law 
only  proves  the  universality  of  the  law,  which,  working 
as  it  does  in  religious  ceremonial,  may  by  participants 
be  abused  or  rightly  used,  just  as  the  power  of  public 
speaking  or  writing  may  be.  The  misuse  of  all  these 
is  a  great  anti-social  sin,  and  lies  in  some  degree  on  the 
souls  of  the  people  who  are  willing  to  be  misled,  as 
well  as  in  a  greater  degree  on  the  souls  of  those  who  are 
still  more  aware  of  what  they  are  doing  in  misleading 
them.  But  if  we  analyse  this  sin  we  shall  find  it  con- 
sists first  and  mainly  in  asking  people  to  form  opinions 
while  withholding  or  slurring  over  facts  the  knowledge 
of  which  is  necessary  before  the  average  mind  can  form 
a  right  judgement;  or  secondly,  in  suggesting  to  them 
that  people  better  able  to  judge  than  themselves  have 
discovered  the  truth,  so  that  they  will  be  justified,  or  are 
even  to  be  commended,  in  saving  themselves  the  trouble 
of  using  their  reason  and  taking  the  proffered  decision 
on  authority;  or  thirdly,  in  making  appeal  to  the  emo- 
tions of  people  when  their  minds  are  insuflicicntly 
informed  upon  the  matter  to  be  decided,  or  they  have 
been  persuaded  not  to  use  them.  Any  appeal  to  human 
beings  which  has  any  or  all  of  these  three  elements  is 
an  act  of  great  wickedness,  wickedness  in  which  people 
who  allow  themselves  to  be  thus  led  participate.  But 
we  cannot  argue  from  this  that  any  appeal  to  the 
emotions  of  a   crowd   is  wrong,  or  that  bringing  the 


252  Tii]<:  si'iKir  VII 

crowd  into  a  quiescent  state  of  receptivencss  and  ex- 
pectancy before  that  appeal  is  made  is  wrontj;.  An 
appeal  to  the  emotions  of  men  when  their  minds  are 
hushed  by  the  gravity  of  the  hour  is  a  perfectly  legiti- 
mate way  of  dealing  with  them,  provided  that  the 
people  thus  dealt  with  have  been  given  no  ex  parte 
statements  but  have  the  fullest  information  and  knowl- 
edge that  can  be  given  concerning  the  matter  in  hand, 
and  provided  their  reasoning  powers  are  stimulated 
and  encouraged  at  all  other  times. 

Professor  McDougall  defines  suggestion  as  "  a  pro- 
cess of  communication  resulting  in  the  acceptance  with 
conviction  of  the  communicated  proposition  in  the  ab- 
sence of  logically  adequate  grounds  for  its  accept- 
ance." ^  But  to  this  must  be  added  that  it  is  also  a 
method  of  convincing  the  subconcious  mind  of  propo- 
sitions which  the  reason  has  accepted,  but  which  the 
will  cannot  act  on.  E.g.  2l  drunkard  reasonably  be- 
lieves that  he  ought  to  refrain  from  drink  and  can,  yet, 
like  St.  Paul,-  what  he  wills  he  cannot  do.  When  sug- 
gestion drives  his  conscious  conviction  into  his  subcon- 
scious mind  he  can  reform.  Such  suggestion  may  be 
forcibly  conveyed  by  a  sacrament. 

Baptism 

I  remember  once  seeing  a  baptism  on  the  shore 
of  the  Atlantic  in  the  State  of  Maine.  Two  mission 
preachers  —  one  a  Presbyterian,  the  other  a  Canadian 
Anglican  —  had  joined  in  an  open-air  mission,  and  that 
evening,  when  the  sun  was  setting,  they  baptised  their 
converts,  dipping  them  in  the  surf  of  the  ocean.  A 
curious  and  solemn  silence  fell  upon  the  little  crowd  of 
spectators  who  gathered  between  a  fragrant  pine-wood 
and  the  incoming  tide.  Baptism  by  immersion  is  the 
traditional  use  of  the  American  camp-meeting.  The 
missioners,  their  black  Geneva  gowns  floating  behind 
them  on  the  water,  looked  intrepid  and  serene  in  the 

1  Social  Psychology,   p.    97.  2  Romans   vii. 


VII       THE  LANGUAGE  OF  THE  SOUL      253 

rolling  waves.  The  candidates  went  through  the  high 
surf  and  returned  with  a  swinging,  elastic  step,  enthusi- 
asm upon  their  faces.  Of  one  or  two  cases  I  happened 
later  to  get  personal  details,  and  learnt  that  this  bap- 
tism had  marked  a  turning-point  in  the  life.  An  hour 
after  his  baptism  I  walked  with  one  of  the  men.  Al- 
though trembling  with  cold  and  excitement,  he  told  me 
that  his  ecstasy  of  inward  joy  was  so  great  that  he  could 
hardly  refrain  from  shouting  aloud.  He  said  that  for 
many  years  he  had  been  resisting  the  belief  that  he 
ought  to  be  baptized  by  immersion,  such  baptism  for 
him  involving  publicity,  from  which  he  shrank;  but 
that  for  some  time  he  had  been  convinced  that  the 
Holy  Spirit  would  not  come  into  his  soul  till  in  this 
matter  he  conformed.  He  had  been  baptized  in  in- 
fancy, but  had  grown  up  a  fretful  and  self-centred 
man;  he  became  radiant  and  self-forgetful.  Those 
who  believe  that  "  all  grace  is  the  grace  of  God  " 
will  not  deny  that  for  this  man  this  particular  form 
of  baptism  became  the  natural  channel  of  enhanced 
life,  because  when  he  at  last  ended  the  inner  conflict 
there  ensued  a  state  of  passivity  in  which  the  powerful 
suggestion  of  the  dramatic  ceremony  moved,  not  only 
his  conscious,  but  his  whole  instinctive,  life.  He  went 
forward  in  the  power  of  that  suggestion  until  a  new 
habit  of  mind  was  established. 

The  baptizings  of  the  Primitive  Church  were,  no 
doubt,  similarly  dramatic;  the  preparation  of  the  can- 
didates would  lead  them  to  expect  a  corresponding 
dramatic  change  in  their  life,  and  the  rite  would  be 
a  channel  of  divine  grace.  7  he  tradition  of  a  super- 
natural power  being  received  would  naturally  grow  up; 
but  if  by  "  supernatural  "  is  meant  something  differing 
both  in  kind  and  degree  from  that  which  may  be  ob- 
tained through  non-sacramcntal  forms  of  right  mental 
suggestion,  the  word  appears  to  imply  a  misreading  of 
the  ways  of  dod.  Christian  adult  baptism,  or  confir- 
mation, is  normally  accompanied  by  the  acceptance  on 


254  THE  SPIRIT  vii 

tlic  part  of  the  candidate  of  those  standards  of  vaUie 
which  are  typical  of  traditional  Christianity.  In  so  far 
as  these  standards  are  truly  Christian  they  are  the  high- 
est that  the  world  knows,  and  their  acceptance,  espe- 
cially when  worked  into  the  Inner  consciousness  by  a 
suggestive  rite,  has  transforming  force.  It  is  such 
transforming  force  that  is  the  mark  of  the  Spirit's 
working.  To  believe  that  salvation  is  magically  con- 
ferred by  the  rite,  where  there  Is  no  change  in  the  trend 
of  life  from  downward  to  upward.  Is  to  believe  some- 
thing for  which  there  is  no  evidence.  Where  there  Is 
such  a  change  in  the  life-current  there  is  surely  adequate 
proof  of  the  endowment  of  God  without  the  assertion 
of  any  further  non-natural  endowment. 

Another  way  In  which  baptism  In  the  early  Church 
would  be  found  In  practice  to  conduce  to  new  life  In  a 
convert  was  by  his  translation  into  the  new  environment 
of  the  Christian  society,  then  sharply  cut  off  from  pagan 
laxity.  Such  a  change  would  operate  powerfully  to 
make  a  new  man.  That  complete  change  of  environ- 
ment was  not  possible  when  the  world  became  nominally 
Christian,  but  the  tradition  of  a  complete  change 
lingered  and  could  not  fall  to  be  suggestive. 

If,  however,  this  point  of  view  appears  to  some 
inadequate  to  express  God's  ways  with  those  who  seek 
His  grace  In  holy  rites,  we  would  ask  such  whether.  In 
view  of  what  we  know  of  "  mental  suggestion  "  and  the 
law  of  Its  working,  they  can  maintain  that  it  Is  absent 
In  the  observance  of  religious  rites.  I  think  all  will  ad- 
mit that  It  forms  the  natural  modus  operandi  of  the 
power  experienced  at  such  times,  that  whether  the  grace 
of  God  as  realised  by  the  soul  In  such  rites  be  natural 
or  supernatural,  it  comes,  at  least  partially,  by  sugges- 
tion. It  must  also  be  admitted  tliat  the  suggestibility 
of  the  mind  can  on  occasion  be  used  by  preacher  or 
orator  to  produce  effects  in  the  lives  of  men  quite  as 
notable,  either  for  good  or  evil,  as  can  be  observed  to 
follow  from  religious  ceremonies.     Is  it  not,  then,  more 


VII       THE  LANGUAGE  OF  THE  SOUL     255 

honouring  to  God  to  believe  that  He  respects  the 
nature  He  has  given  to  man  in  refusing  to  affect  him 
in  any  non-natural  way,  than  to  suppose  that  at  certain 
times  He  gives  supernatural  aid,  when  this  particular 
aid,  so  far  as  the  world  can  see,  is  no  more  potent  than 
the  aid  which  the  heaven-sent  preacher  or  teacher  can 
give  through  verbal  suggestion?  It  was  quite  natural 
and  proper,  while  the  psychological  laws  of  suggestion 
and  attention  were  not  understood  and  the  latent 
powers  of  the  human  mind  largely  unsuspected,  that 
men  should  believe  that  all  results  beyond  their  com- 
prehension were  effected  by  supernatural  power,  either 
good  or  evil.  That  they  should  doggedly  hold  to  the 
same  phraseology  in  accounting  for  certain  religious 
facts  and  no  others,  when  clearer  knowledge  of  natural 
possibilities  has  come,  appears  to  many  only  to  make 
the  religious  truth  thus  tricked  out  in  the  fashion  of  a 
more  ignorant  age  seem  trivial. 

Such  a  psychological  explanation  cannot,  of  course, 
be  applied  in  the  case  of  infant  baptism;  nevertheless  I 
would  urge  that  the  practice  is  one  that  can  be  justified 
psychologically,  though  in  a  somewhat  different  way. 
In  infant  baptism  we  have  the  ceremony  of  bringing 
a  child  within  the  doors  of  some  church,  if  possible,  of 
holding  it  to  the  priest  to  be  sprinkled  with  water  and 
formally  received  into  the  Christian  Society,  of  offering 
prayer  for  its  spiritual  welfare  and  thanksgiving  to 
God  on  its  behalf.  People  thus  bringing  children  have 
various  reasons  for  their  action,  various  notions  of 
the  result  affected  by  baptism;  but  a  common  motive 
actuates  the  vast  majority,  and  that  is  the  desire  to 
bring  the  child  in  some  way  within  the  focus  of  a 
Power  greater  than  that  of  parent  or  guardian,  which 
is  recognised  as  malting  for  good. 

If  we  believe  that  God  is  always  ready  to  reward 
those  who  seek  Him,  and  that  the  reward  He  gives  is 
not  something  arbitrary  or  in  the  future,  but  the  Im- 
parting, here  and  now,  of  so  much  of  His  own  life  as 


256  THK  SPIRIT  VII 

the  soul,  often  close  shut,  is  able  to  assimilate,  our 
question  beccmies,  I  low  can  this  special  action  of  bap- 
tism, accomplished  jointly  by  the  priest  ami  the  friends 
of  the  child,  hnncr  about  in  the  child  any  special  assim- 
ilation of  the  di\ine  goodness? 

In  answering  this  question  we  have,  first,  fearlessly 
and  frankly  to  face  the  undoubted  fact  that  large 
populations  in  different  parts  of  the  world,  which  have 
been,  and  are,  scrupulous  in  bringing  all  their  children 
to  receive  Christian  baptism,  at  the  same  time  have 
lived,  and  live,  in  moral  degradation.  The  child  by 
baptism  is  outwardly  made  a  member  of  the  Christian 
community  in  which  he  lives,  and  theoretically  a  mem- 
ber of  the  whole  Christian  church  on  earth  and  in  the 
immortal  life.  But  unless  the  immediate  community 
into  w^hich  he  is  received  be  Christlike,  there  is  no 
evidence  whatever  that  baptism  introduces  the  life  of 
Christ  into  the  infant  soul.  Just  to  the  extent  to 
which  the  community  is  bringing  forth  the  fruits  of 
the  Spirit  will  the  average  child  manifest  them.  I 
was  once  in  a  little  company  of  seaside  visitors,  mostly 
Protestants,  in  a  Roman  Catholic  province  when  a  small 
schooner  was  driven  upon  the  rocky  shore  In  a  storm. 
It  was  night,  but  of  course  every  one  turned  out.  A 
hardy  man  managed  to  swim  out  with  a  rope  to  the 
distressed  vessel,  and  then  the  hope  of  her  salvation 
lay  in  being  pulled  toward  a  sandy  beach  where  the 
crew  could  save  themselves.  A  long  string  of  visitors, 
who  were  soon  hauling  at  the  rope,  included  Red 
Indians,  Agnostics,  and  a  Quaker.  Even  some  women 
tourists  were  helping  in  the  long  and  tough  piece  of 
work.  The  Catholic  residents,  who  alone  made  a  liv- 
ing In  the  place,  stood  idle,  demanding  a  price  for  their 
services,  lime  and  again  the  group  of  watching 
women  thought  they  saw  the  gallant  little  vessel  drift 
too  near  the  rocks  to  escape,  and  then  some  flicker 
of  lightning  through  the  storm  showed  that  there  was 
still  hope.      All  the  time  the  company  of  good  Catholic 


VII        THE  LANGUAGE  OF  THE  SOUL      257 

mercenaries  were  standing  out  for  a  better  bargain. 
They  were  not  specially  to  blame.  That  was  the  level 
of  the  local  community  into  which  they  had  been  bap- 
tized. They  had  no  public  spirit,  and  their  money 
harvest  was  the  short  tourist  season.  What  had  they 
received  in  Catholic  baptism  as  infants?  A  dogma- 
tism centuries  old  assures  us  that  they  had  received 
the  grace  of  regeneration.  But  our  world  has  recently 
passed  through  flood  and  fire;  we  are  born  again  into 
a  new  day  of  thought  and  social  regeneration.  What 
value  for  us  have  these  old  assertions  of  ecclesiastical 
theory  if  no  evidence  can  be  found  to  give  them  sup- 
port? When  it  is  asserted  to-day  that  the  Pagan 
Indian,  the  unbaptized  Agnostic,  and  the  Quaker,  who 
strained  heart  and  limb  at  the  rope  on  that  remote 
shore,  lacked  the  assurance  of  God's  grace  possessed 
by  the  others  who  stood  aloof,  we  Christians  think 
such  a  belief  dishonouring  to  Christ  as  the  captain  of 
our  salvation,  while  the  outer  world  gives  one  short 
whistle  of  ironic  incredulity  and  goes  on  its  way. 

Is  infant  baptism,  then,  an  empty  form!  Surely 
not!  We  cannot  adequately  express  in  words  all  that 
we  hope  for  a  little  new-born  life.  Our  desires  for  its 
earthly  life  of  joy  and  fellowship,  and  for  the  immortal 
grandeur  to  which  it  may  develop,  raise  in  us  thoughts 
unutterable.  Wc  may  be  only  dimly  conscious  that  the 
fears  and  hopes  that  cluster  round  an  infant  centre  in 
God's  saving  grace;  but  whatever  religious  notions  a 
parent  may  have  must  be  stirred  by  the  responsibility 
of  a  new-born  child.  If  rlicsc  notions  be  Christian  they 
cannot  find  expression  in  action  and  symbol  more  truly 
than  in  a  rite  which  enrols  the  child  as  a  member  of 
the  larger  family  of  God  and  touches  him  with  the  same 
water  tliat  in  time  past  was  used  to  symbolise  the  wash- 
ing away  of  the  pagan  terrors  and  pagan  atrocities  of 
his  remote  forefathers. 

In  our  ceremony  of  baptism  there  is,  first,  the 
element  of  intercessory  prayer.      Parents  and  sponsors 


258  THE  SPIRIT  vii 

offer,  not  only  their  own  faith,  but  the  faith  of  the 
Church  at  large,  on  the  child's  behalf;  and  if  they 
are  godly  they  thus  bring  to  the  delicate  mim.!  ot  the 
unconscious  infant  the  telepathic  force  of  love  and 
hope.  In  this  atmosphere  something  is  done  once  and 
for  ever  on  the  child's  behalf;  there  is  a  symbolic 
gesture  of  the  Church  toward  the  throne  of  God,  and 
an  action  used  to  express  the  Church's  faith  that  God 
understands  the  prayer  and  the  gesture,  and  rewards 
it  by  looking  on  the  child  with  acceptance.  It  in  no 
w^ay  contradicts  the  larger  fact  that  unbaptized  children 
are  the  subject  of  the  Spirit's  educative  care,  and  that 
all  such,  sharing  inevitably  the  Christian  environment, 
may  also  share  the  Christian  salvation.  Indeed,  the 
acceptance  of  God's  fatherhood  for  the  one  child  consti- 
tutes him  for  the  hour  the  representative  of  all  children. 
Meagre  indeed  must  be  the  conception  of  God,  of 
the  ideal  friendship,  or  of  the  issues  of  life  bound  up  in 
a  little  child,  existing  in  the  mind  of  man  or  woman 
who  could  find  words  adequately  to  express  what  is 
Involved  in  the  dedication  of  an  infant  to  God.  We 
appreciate  the  point  of  view  of  the  Baptists,  who  post- 
pone the  rite,  or  the  Quakers,  who,  adepts  as  they 
are  in  exploring  the  power  of  silence,  eschew  it  alto- 
gether; but  we  believe  the  more  general  instinct  of 
Christendom  is  sound  which  finds  in  this  common 
Christian  symbol  of  infant  baptism  a  meaning  that 
overflows  all  verbal  channels  and  will  not  be  suppressed. 

Confession  and  Absolution 

The  soul's  need  of  expression  has  been  not  only 
proved,  but  much  forced  upon  our  attention  of  late  by 
the  astonishing  success  of  the  therapeutic  method 
as  psycho-analysis.  Briefly,  the  discovery  of  a  certain 
medical  school  is  that  many  mental  and  nervous  dis- 
eases are  caused  by  some  emotional  experience  which 
has  never  found  vent  in  open  expression.  Such  an 
experience  leaves  a  memory,  conscious  or  subconscious. 


VII        THE  LANGUAGE  OF  THE  SOUL      259 

which  causes  a  prolonged  emotional  strain,  the  sup- 
pression of  which  works  mischief  in  the  soul,  with  con- 
sequent ill  effects  upon  physical  and  mental  health. 
The  original  cause  of  this  strain  may  be  forgotten,  or 
Ignored  by  the  patient,  but  when  it  Is  brought  to  light, 
and  the  patient  persuaded  to  converse  freely  on  the 
subject,  the  result  is  great  relief.  The  physician,  by 
convincing  the  patient  that  he  need  no  longer  go  in 
bondage  to  the  past,  completes  the  cure. 

The  parallel  between  this  scientific  discovery  and 
the  Catholic  doctrine  of  sacramental  confession  and 
absolution  Is  obvious.  The  following  is  quoted  from 
the  book  by  Dr.  A.  E.  Davis,  of  the  Liverpool  Psycho- 
Therapeutic  Clinic: 

A  frequent  cause  of  obsession,  or  obsessive  thoughts,  is  the 
feeling  of  shame  or  regret  arising  out  of  bad  habits  in  early  life. 
These  obsessions  are  most  intense,  persistent,  and  painful  in 
character.  Of  all  classes  of  obsessions  this  is  probably  one  of 
the  most  easily  and  permanently  curable.  If  psycho-analytic 
treatment  had  no  other  justification  than  in  this  class  of  case  it 
would  have  fully  justified  its  inclusion  in  psycho-therapy.  By 
its  means,  and  the  power  of  classification  which  its  practice 
gives,  one  is  enabled  quickly  to  expose  the  painful  complex. 
The  rest  is  easy.  The  patient  is  encouraged  to  give  a  circum- 
stantial account  of  his  former  habits,  his  struggles,  regrets,  and 
the  literature  which  first  planted  the  seeds  of  fear  and  remorse 
in  his  mind. 

The  unburdening  of  the  mind,  the  discharge  of  the  pent- 
up,  painful  emotions,  the  feeling  that  the  secret  burden  under 
which  he  has  toiled  for  years  friendless  and  helpless,  is  no 
longer  secret,  but  shared  with  a  sympathetic  listener;  the 
sum  of  all  this  relief  is  so  great  as  to  be  almost  incredible. 
This  is  no  flight  of  fancy,  it  is  a  tragedy  in  real  life.  Only 
those  who  have  suffered,  or  have  heard  the  confessions  of 
sufierers,  can  conceive  the  awful,  ever-present  remorse,  fear 
and  sliamc,  haunting  them  day  and  night  for  years.  It  is  prob- 
able that  some  cases  of  insanity  and  suicide  are  due  to  this 
cause  alone.^ 

Frcjm  this  it  is  easy  to  sec  the  power  of  the  Catholic 
confessional  in  all  cases  where  the  burden  of  shame  or 

I  Hypnotism  and  Trealmcnt  by  Suggestion,  pp.  46-47' 


26o  THE  SPIRIT  vii 

remorse  or  fear  has  weighed  upon  the  soul.  The  act 
of  confession,  the  dramatic  words  of  absolution,  the 
advice  of  a  kindly  confessor,  brinn;  to  the  believing 
heart  the  recognition  of  Ciod's  forgiveness,  and  natu- 
rally produce  in  the  penitent  a  new  sense  of  power  and 
freedom  such  as  a  prisoner  feels  whose  chains  have 
been  broken.  It  is  certain  also  that,  in  the  case  of 
penitents  struggling  against  bad  habits  of  body  or  mind, 
the  practice  of  frequent  confession  would  always  be  a 
comparati\ely  sim.ple  method  of  conforming  the  charac- 
ter to  the  new  ideal  aimed  at,  because  confession  and 
penance  inevitably  impose  on  the  subconscious  mind 
a  forceful  suggestion  as  to  the  suppression  of  certain 
habits  and  the  formation  of  others.  Thus  we  see  how 
a  conviction  would  arise  and  become  traditional,  at- 
tributing to  the  confessor  the  power  to  dispense  the 
grace  of  God;  and  the  ritual,  not  only  of  this  rite  of 
confession,  but  of  the  priestly  ordination  which  con- 
ferred such  power  upon  him,  would  be  modified  in 
accordance  with  the  belief. 

We  find,  then,  that  the  Church  has  been  guided 
by  a  sure  instinct  In  accord  with  psychological  law  in 
instituting  a  practice  by  which  burdened  souls  could 
find  this  relief,  relying  upon  the  absolute  secrecy  of  the 
confessor.  In  Protestant  congregations,  where  there 
is  no  official  on  whose  secrecy  a  frightened  soul  can  rely, 
there  Is  a  great  lack. 

While  this  is  true,  there  appears  to  be  no  justifica- 
tion for  much  of  the  Catholic  doctrine  and  practice 
of  the  confessional.  The  sooner  a  patient  becomes 
independent  of  the  psycho-therapist  the  better.  No 
medical  psycho-therapist  would  ask  for  the  confessions 
of  the  healthy  or  would  count  his  work  for  the  dis- 
eased successful  if  the  patient  needed  to  come  to  him 
frequently  all  his  lifetime.  Such  dependence  would 
indicate  and  perpetuate  mental  and  moral  weakness, 
unless  It  became  a  mere  form,  in  which  case  it  would 
be  worse  than  worthless.      Unless  psycho-therapy  pro- 


VII       THE  LANGUAGE  OF  THE  SOUL     261 

duce  in  morbid  characters  a  new  freedom  In  which  they 
can  develop  a  healthy  Initiative  Inspired  from  within, 
it  must  necessarily  tend  to  wealcen  the  moral  fibre. 

Likewise,  from  the  mental  and  moral  point  of  view, 
compulsory  confession  for  the  healthy,  or  frequent 
confession  throughout  a  lifetime  for  any,  has  no  justi- 
fication. Can  It  be  justified  from  the  religious  stand- 
point? Religiously  all  Institutions  must  stand  or  fall 
by  what  they  Imply  as  to  the  character  of  God.  The 
doctrine  of  sacramental  confession  and  absolution  grew 
up  In  an  age  when  Christian  theology  was  dominated 
by  legal  conceptions.  In  Semitic  and  in  Roman  law 
a  criminal  had  only  his  misdeeds  measured  by  legal 
requirements.  No  court  of  law  has  ever  weighed  the 
good  deeds  of  a  criminal  and  balanced  them  nicely 
against  his  transgressions,  which  Is  what  the  natural 
heart  of  man  demands  as  justice.  As  far  as  law  is 
concerned,  any  consideration  of  merit  is  gratuitous, 
and  each  infringement  of  the  code  must  be  penalised 
and  the  account  settled  before  the  criminal  can  live  at 
ease.  In  the  age  of  which  we  speak  God  was  thought 
of  as  the  great  giver  of  such  law,  the  great  Judge  who 
dispensed  It.  The  divine  event  toward  which  the  whole 
creation  moved  was  thought  of  as  a  great  legal  assize. 
It  was  under  such  a  juristic  conception  of  sin  and 
God  that  the  doctrine  of  priestly  absolution  grew  up. 
Absolution  is  essentially  the  formal  pronunciation,  by 
a  properly  qualified  agent,  of  the  divine  forgiveness  of 
certain  definite  offences.  Do  we  to-day  really  feel  that 
God's  attitude  toward  evil  in  the  human  heart  is  rightly 
represented  by  such  a  conception?  Can  a  sentence  of 
absolution  pronounced  on  a  definite  act  of  sin  cleanse 
the  disposition  of  soul  out  of  which  the  act  sprang? 
If  God  the  Spirit  dwells  with  the  aspiring  soul,  always 
changing  it  from  day  to  day  by  His  personal  compan- 
ionship, can  the  vicarious  representation  of  an  external 
juristic  authority,  pronouncing  judgement  upon  particu- 
lar offences,  bring  home  to  us  the  reality  of  His  con- 


262  THE  SPIRIT  VII 

stant  forgiving  renewal  and  encouragement?  Does 
tlie  confessional  cause  us  to  understand  the  transcendent 
I-ather  who  manifested  His  attitude  to  men  in  the  liv- 
ing service  and  dying  love  of  Jesus  Christ?  Do  we 
recognise  in  the  ritual  of  confession  and  absolution  the 
outward  and  visible  sign  of  a  salvation  which  is  in  the 
soul  a  perpetual  well-spring  of  living  water/  which 
flows  forth  from  every  saved  soul  like  a  river  of  living 
water-  for  the  healing  of  the  world?  If  not,  the 
practice  of  sacramental  absolution  does  not  appear  to 
have  justification,  though  the  occasional  practice  of 
private  confession  is  often  a  necessary  means  of  grace 
to  souls  burdened  by  past  sins  or  present  infirmities. 
Every  Christian  minister  ought  to  be  carefully  trained 
to  be  a  trustworthy  "  spiritual  director,"  in  order  that 
he  may  win  confidence  and  convince  the  oppressed  of 
God's  forgiveness  and  certain  and  practical  help. 

The  Eucharist 

Let  us  turn  now  to  examine  the  traditional  cere- 
monies associated  with  the  celebration  of  the  Eucharist. 
We  find  that  In  all  cases  the  unconscious  Instinct  of  the 
Church  has  produced  forms  likely  to  bring  about  in  the 
soul  that  quiescent  or  receptive  attitude  In  which  the 
suggestion  of  the  acts  will  have  greatest  power.  The 
psychological  Instinct  has  worked  with  a  sure  touch  In 
producing  these  forms.  Thus  In  the  service  of  the 
Roman  Catholic  Mass,  words,  music,  silences,  the  sharp 
tinkling  of  the  bell,  are  all  admirably  calculated  to  pro- 
duce a  state  of  mind  quiescent  to  all  else,  concentrated 
upon  one  Idea  and  expectant,  a  state  in  which  the  mind 
is  ready  for  the  most  powerful  working  of  any  sugges- 
tion. The  offering  of  the  elements  of  life  to  God  as 
symbols  of  the  life  of  Christ  carries  the  soul  to  the 
offering  of  self  as  a  living  sacrifice.  The  act  of  giving 
and  receiving  the  holy  food  is,  of  course,  in  Itself  ex- 

1  John  iv.    14.  2  John  vii.  38. 


VII       THE  LANGUAGE  OF  THE  SOUL     263 

traordlnarily  suggestive  of  some  augmentation  of  inner 
strength  which  passes  from  the  Source  of  all  life  to  the 
individual  life  of  the  soul.  The  whole  service  prepares 
for  and  enhances  the  act  of  reception:  first,  whatever 
burden  of  sin  may  be  upon  the  communicant's  mind  is 
laid  aside  by  confession  and  absolution;  secondly,  its 
anxieties  are  allayed  by  intercession  and  thanksgiving, 
and  all  acts  of  worship  that  pass  between  that  and  the 
act  of  reception  tend  to  increase  concentration  and  ex- 
pectancy, so  that  the  suggestion  of  the  act  pierces,  as 
it  were,  like  a  two-edged  sword  underneath  the  dis- 
quiet and  distraction  of  the  upper  levels  of  conscious- 
ness, into  a  region  of  calm  psychic  life  where  it  can  act 
with  a  compelling  power.  In  more  modern  forms  of 
the  Communion  service  we  find  a  similar  touch  of  sure 
psychological  instinct.^ 

So  far  as  the  reception  of  Holy  Communion  goes  to 
the  building  up  of  moral  character,  or  —  what  is  the 
same  thing  —  to  the  bringing  forth  of  the  fruits  of  the 
Spirit,  the  Christian  graces,  we  are  again  bound  to  face 
the  evidence  that,  except  in  the  case  of  rare  souls,  the 
characters  of  the  devout  conform  to  the  standard  of 
the  local  religious  community.  Whatever  is  current  as 
the  Christian  ideal  is  formed  —  given  time  and  normal 
conditions  —  in  the  character  of  the  constant  com- 
municant. In  different  parts  of  the  world  these  ideals 
are  different  —  a  fact  which  certainly  harmonises  with 
the  hypothesis  that  the  formative  force  is  auto-sugges- 
tion combined  with  the  suggestion  of  power  as  given  in 
the  holy  food. 

But  why,  it  may  be  asked,  do  we  need  such  periodic 
suggestion?  When  I  was  a  child  li\ing  in  a  Roman 
Catholic  country  I  caught  up  some  phrases  of  religious 
polemic  and  was  repeating  them  to  my  father,  when  he 
said,  **  No  intelligent  person  who  believes  that  God  is  a 
Spirit  questions  the  Real  Presence  in  the  Mass;  it  is  the 
Special   Presence  they  question."     This  is,  of  course, 

1  E.g.  the  Presbyterian  service. 


264  THE  SPIRIT 


VII 


true;  no  one  who  realises  the  spiritual  presence  of  the 
Christ  can  fail  to  feel  the  full  import  of  the  words, 
"  Where  two  or  three  are  gathered  ton;cther  in  my 
name  there  am  I  in  the  midst  of  them."  But  what 
relation  do  time  and  space  hear  to  such  spiritual 
presence?  Is  there  any  point  of  space  or  time  —  even 
though  that  point  centre  in  a  material  ohject  —  of 
which  we  would  dare  to  assert  that  the  divine  presence 
was  ahsent? 

"  If  I  take  the  wings  of  the  morning  and  dwell  in  the 
uttermost  parts  of  the  sea,  even  there  shall  thy  hand 
lead  me  and  thy  right  hand  shall  hold  me."  ^ 

"  Lo,  I  am  with  you  alway."  ^ 

Nor  can  we  fail,  unless  we  accept  a  materialist 
philosophy,  to  regard  the  material  universe  as  instinct 
with  God. 

"  Who  layeth  the  beams  of  his  chambers  In  the 
waters:  who  maketh  the  clouds  his  chariot."^ 

"  He  flew  swiftly  upon  the  wings  of  the  wind.  He 
made  darkness  his  hiding-place."  * 

"  Raise  the  stone  and  thou  shalt  find  me;  cleave  the 
wood  and  there  am  I."  ^ 

"  And  every  common  bush  afire  with  God."  ^ 

By  the  Special  Presence,  then,  in  any  place  or  time 
we  must  mean  a  special  awareness  of  the  divine  presence 
by  human  spirits.  But  just  because  the  consciousness 
or  awareness  of  the  divine  presence  is,  in  every  in- 
dividual, so  dependent  upon  our  subjective  states,  it 
appears  necessary  that  the  faith  of  the  Church  in  the 
all-present  Christ  should  be  summed  up  and  brought 
home  to  the  individual  in  a  recurring  action.  Such 
action  expresses  not  only  our  assurance  too  deep  for 
words,  but  also  our  common  relation  to  the  all-present 
Christ  and  our  fellowship  with  one  another.  That  is 
the  reason  not  only  why  this  special  awareness  of  the 
divine  presence  can  come  to  us  with  the  supreme  act 

1  Ps.  cxxxix.  9-:o.  4  Ps.  xviii.    lo. 

2  Matt,  xxviii.  26.  5  Oxyrhynchus   Logia. 

3  Ps.  civ.  3.  •  Mrs.  Browning. 


VII       THE  LANGUAGE  OF  THE  SOUL     265 

of  the  Church's  language  of  action,  but  why  we  have 
good  ground  for  our  belief  that,  however  languid  and 
oblivious  we  may  feel,  we  may  verily  come  into  touch 
with  the  presence  by  our  participation  in  that  action.^ 

Such  periodic  acts  of  attention  are  necessary,  or  at 
least  most  helpful,  to  the  soul's  vitality.  The  finite 
life  of  all  things  proceeds  each  by  a  certain  rhythm 
peculiar  to  itself.  The  living  organism  sleeps  and 
wakes,  acts  and  rests,  feeds  and  assimilates.  The 
morning  stars  sing  together,  the  waves  of  the  ocean 
clap  their  hands,  in  rhythmic  motion;  from  the  whole 
of  creation  there  arises  a  music  in  which  time  is  meted 
out  in  regular  rhythm.  So  it  is  with  the  soul  of  man, 
except  that  he  has  a  certain  power  of  controlling  his 
own  rhythm,  and  a  bad  jar  and  jangle  he  often  makes 
of  it.  But  the  more  he  yields  to  the  experience  of 
salvation  —  the  more  he  responds  to  the  comfort  or 
comradeship  of  the  Spirit  —  the  more  right  will  be  the 
rhythm  of  his  religious  action;  and  he  finds  that  regular 
times  for  private  worship  and  public  worship,  for  learn- 
ing what  other  men  have  discovered  concerning  God 
and  for  meditating  upon  this  garnered  knowledge,  are 
the  best  response  to  God's  constant  presence,  just  as 
regular  times  for  refreshing  the  body  with  the  food 
that  is  always  within  reach  are  essential  to  that  body's 
well-being. 

If  this  be  granted  it  is  evident  that  we  want,  for 
such  ceremonial,  the  most  beautiful  setting  of  edifice 
and  furniture  that  we  can  give,  and  the  actions  of  our 
ritual  must  be  true,  absolutely  true,  to  our  best  instincts 
of  prayer  and  praise.  In  the  degree  in  which  these 
things  become  ornate  rather  than  beautiful  the  rite  will 
be  neglected  by  healthy  souls.  The  issue  has  long  been 
obscured  by  the  confusion  of  moral  and  aesthetic  values, 
and  also  by  the  party  spirit  which  has  entered  into 
controversies  on  this  subject.  Whether  any  observance 
had  its  origin  in  Pagan  or  Christian  Rome,  or  in  the 

1  Cf.  Essay  \'.,  p.   163. 


266  THK  SPIRIT  VII 

Byzantine  Court,  is  unimportant.  If  it  conformed  to 
our  ancestors'  ideals  of  truth  and  beauty  it  was  right 
for  them.  If  we  do  not  now  hold  it  true  to  our  sense 
of  beauty  and  truth  and  our  highest  ideals  of  worship, 
it  is  wrong  for  us. 

I  have  only  seen  one  modern  church  building  that 
appeared  to  embody  the  ideal  of  a  living  community. 
It  was  made  of  logs,  and  it  stood  in  a  little  open  sp?ce 
in  the  forest.  They  were  the  best  logs  that  could  be 
got,  and  they  lay  upon  one  another  unhewn  in  all  their 
natural  beauty.  It  was  a  simple,  oblong  building  of 
good  proportions  —  something  better  than  any  dwell- 
ing-house around,  and  homely.  From  inside  people 
looked  up  through  large  windows  to  see  the  arching 
branches  of  trees,  and  above  them  the  kindly  blue  or 
the  hurrying  clouds.  There  was,  for  the  Eucharist, 
one  plain  broad  table  —  the  best  table  that  could  be 
made  —  covered  with  the  whitest  of  cloths.  The  little 
log  church  in  the  forest  was  perfect  in  its  way  because 
it  was  the  best  of  its  kind  and  homely.  The  most 
splendid  Gothic  cathedrals  were  also,  for  those  who 
built  them,  the  best  they  could  give,  and  homely,  for 
their  homes  were  also  Gothic — dark,  cold,  ill-aired, 
but  of  their  type  beautiful.  But  imitation  Gothic  in 
the  midst  of  the  ugly,  box-like  tenements  of  the  poor 
is  ugly  and  unhomely.  What  would  be  the  best  church 
edifice  that  modern  wealth  in  centres  of  civilisation 
could  produce?  We  cannot  tell;  and  we  never  shall 
be  able  to  tell  until  we  get  the  beauty  of  holiness  in  our 
homes,  and  return  to  simplicity  and  homeliness  in  our 
churches. 

When  young  I  was  often  taken  to  a  service  In  a 
chapel  on  a  steep  hillside.  Its  interior  was  very  simple 
and  austere;  but  on  one  side  the  high  windows  were 
clear  to  a  great  expanse  of  sky,  and  on  the  other,  up 
the  steep  slope  of  a  hill,  was  a  convent  garden  in  which, 
at  a  regular  hour,  a  long  procession  of  nuns  in  their 
black  and  cumbrous  mediaeval  gowns  walked,  through 


VII       THE  LANGUAGE  OF  THE  SOUL     267 

the  gracious  summer,  with  heads  bent,  into  a  darkened 
church.  Above  them  was  a  screen  of  fluttering  poplar 
leaves  and  the  splendour  of  the  summer  sky;  but  they 
never  looked  up.  I  have  never  forgotten  the  sky  as 
seen  through  those  windows  of  clear,  latticed  glass  in 
the  chapel,  nor  the  poetry  of  the  Psalms  and  the  simple 
drama  of  the  Gospel  story  as  they  came  to  us  with  the 
changeful  lights  of  sun  and  shade  and  the  endless  pro- 
cession of  the  summer  clouds.  The  contrast  between 
this  and  the  picture  on  which  we  could  look  not  far 
away —  the  black,  draped  figures  entering  a  dark  door, 
with,  beyond,  the  twinkle  of  artificial  altar  lights  — 
has  always  remained  with  me. 

Here,  I  believe,  were  represented  —  not,  as  the 
shallow  would  say,  two  temperaments,  but  two  differ- 
ent standards  of  aesthetic  value,  so  different  that  they 
implied  two  different  conceptions  of  God. 

This  judgement  has  nothing  whatever  to  do  with 
controversies  between  Romanist  and  Protestant.  It  is 
an  aesthetic  judgement,  and  implies  that  the  love  of 
beauty  is  part  of  virtue,  and  that  we  ought  to  bring 
of  all  our  best  to  our  religious  ceremonial.  As  a  child 
I  was  sometimes  taken  into  Roman  Catholic  churches. 
In  that  part  of  the  world,  and  at  that  time,  the  altars, 
of  which  there  were  many  in  each  large  church,  were 
usually  decked  with  paper  flowers.  Sometimes  they 
were  dressed  with  white  paper  cut  into  marvellous 
patterns,  or  with  cheap  muslin  not  over  clean;  and 
images  of  the  Virgin  were  very  often  dolls  dressed  in 
cheap  white  satin  and  lace,  with  glass  jewellery.  It 
was  bad  taste,  but  I  am  sure  that  a  dear  old  char- 
woman, who  often  used  to  spend  a  day's  wages  on 
candles  and  paper  flowers,  was  as  commendable  as  the 
widow  who  threw  her  mites  into  the  treasury  of  the 
temple.  But  my  point  is  that  there  is  objective  beauty, 
just  as  there  is  objective  truth  and  goodness.  God 
alone  knows  these  in  their  perfection,  but  if  we  would 
keep  our  ceremonial  pure,  we  must  be  ever  approximat- 


268  THE  SPIRIT  vii 

ing  as  nearly  as  we  can  to  beauty  in  church  edifice  and 
ritual.  lo  keep  what  is  tawdry,  cumbrous,  and  ar- 
tificial merely  because  it  is  traditional  is  a  sin. 

It  must  be  atlmitted  that  in  our  towns  many  people 
do  desire,  on  entering;  a  church,  to  be  transported  into 
a  dream-world  in  which  nothing  reminds  them  of  the 
ugly,  jarring  world  of  home  or  factory.  But  what  is 
wrong  is  always  the  jar  and  ugliness  of  the  slum  or 
suburb,  and  in  that  wrong  God  is  suffering.  To 
emphasise  the  distinction  between  the  house  of  God 
and  the  homes  of  men  is  surely  to  build  on  sand.  The 
paraphernalia  of  a  mystery-religion  may  be  a  necessary 
relief  from  a  hideous  world,  but  at  the  best  it  can  only 
be  a  temporary  expedient,  suffered  until  Christianity 
is  vital  enough  to  transform  the  work-a-day  world. 
Surely  no  soul  that  has  access  to  nature  fails  to  find 
in  the  simplest  things  in  life  —  in  the  depth  of  the  sky, 
or  the  sigh  of  the  wind  in  the  trees,  or  in  the  homes  of 
men  —  a  depth  of  mystery  which  makes  them  fitting 
symbols  of  the  mystery  of  godliness.  If  we  want 
darkened  windows  and  air  foggy  with  incense  in  order 
to  testify  that  the  things  of  God  are  too  great  for  us 
to  understand,  it  is  surely  because  we  have  never  con- 
sidered the  lilies,  never  really  seen  one  blade  of  grass. 

It  is  small  wonder  that  the  plain  man  does  not  find 
our  churches  homelike,  and  that  our  rites  and  cere- 
monies usually  express  so  little  to  him.  The  one 
strong,  purely  aesthetic  passion  which  is  evident  in  the 
masses  of  our  people  is  the  love  of  flowers,  which  sug- 
gests that  they  would  respond  to  natural  beauty  in  our 
churches  if  we  could  once  get  rid  of  all  ugliness,  as 
well  as  of  such  beauty  as  belongs  only  to  a  ritual  which 
is  like  a  dead  language,  no  longer  spoken  spontaneously 
but  as  matter  of  scholastic  attainment.  If  the  work- 
man's home  were  beautiful  he  could  bring  the  very  best 
of  the  same  sort  of  beauty  and  make  a  church  in  which 
he  and  his  fellows  could  find  a  corporate  home.  That 
must  be  for  the  future  !     At  present  we  have  the  choice 


VII       THE  LANGUAGE  OF  THE  SOUL     269 

between  entire  simplicity  and  the  best  we  can  supply  of 
gorgeous  traditional  reproductions  in  which,  in  an  en- 
vironment of  Byzantine  colouring,  our  celebrating 
priests  are  arrayed  like  Solomon  in  all  his  glory. 
What  said  our  Lord?  That  one  aesthetic  judgement 
of  His  might  have  more  weight  than  it  has  with  us  in 
our  choice  of  church  furniture  and  vestments. 

Again,  as  to  ritual,  our  language  of  action  must  rep- 
resent the  aspirations  and  deepest  desires  of  our  hearts. 
If  in  any  cathedral  we  watch  in  particular  the  gestures 
of  officiating  priests,  do  we  feel  that  to-day  they  ex- 
press what  we  believe  to  be  the  truth  concerning  the 
relation  of  the  human  soul  to  God  in  its  moments  of 
adoration,  contrition,  and  humble  approach?  We  get 
the  attitude  of  the  celebrant  in  elevating  the  offering 
to  God,  and  we  get  another  attitude,  appropriate  to 
real  prayer,  when,  as  a  suppliant,  he  kneels,  with  head 
bowed  and  face  covered,  for  some  appreciable  time. 
We  get,  also,  constant  passing  genuflexions,  and  the 
bobbings  and  bowings  of  assistants  and  acolytes,  step- 
ping backwards  and  sideways  to  avoid  turning  the  back 
to  the  altar. 

If  we  can  take  away  from  the  ceremonial  of  the 
Mass  what  comes  to  us  from  a  lower  and  more  primi- 
tive idea  of  God,  the  attitudes  of  the  officiating  priest 
are  expressive.  The  bending  of  the  knees  is  an  atti- 
tude entirely  suitable  and  expressive  when  the  head  is 
bowed  and  the  face  covered  and  time  is  given  for  prayer 
and  meditation.  It  expresses  the  privacy  of  the  soul, 
the  withdrawal  of  the  attention  from  all  that  is  ex- 
ternal, the  humble  deference  of  the  mind  of  man  when 
inwardly  laying  the  burden  of  his  own  life  or  of  the 
world  before  God.  Given  time  and  quiet,  this  atti- 
tude is  as  noble  as  hasty  genuflexions  are  ignoble  and 
absurd. 

Purthcr,  when  the  priest,  standing  before  the  altar, 
elevates  his  offering  toward  heaven,  every  line  of  his 
attitude  appears  beautiful   and  expressive.     To   raise 


270  THK  SPIRIT  vii 

the  arms,  to  look  upward,  is  indicative  of  humble  aspi- 
ration. Nothing  could  be  finer  than  this  attitude. 
There  is  perhaps  no  gesture  so  native  to  adoration  and 
prayer  as  that  of  holding  up  empty  hands  while  raising 
the  face  heavenward.  It  would  be  gracious  for  con- 
gregation as  well  as  for  celebrant;  but  as  yet  we  have 
no  congregational  observance  so  expressive. 

We  also  get  the  frequent  genuflexions  which  are  in- 
tended to  express  humility  and  adoration,  and  imply  a 
sense  of  reverence  for  a  superior.  If,  however,  we  no 
longer  believe  that  the  God  we  adore  is  pleased  with 
grovelling  genuflexions,  such  attitudes  no  longer  ex- 
press for  us  either  adoration  or  humility.  The  ideas 
of  glory  and  power,  founded  upon  compulsion  and 
terror  of  the  arbitrary  caprice  of  Eastern  potentates, 
made  grovelling  attitudes  suitable  in  their  courts.  It 
was  in  such  courts,  when  they  represented  the  world's 
greatest  wealth,  that  the  etiquette  of  "  falling  down 
before  the  footstool  "  of  the  sovereiojn  culminated. 
The  idea  which  then  gathered  world-wide  prestige  has 
since  slowly  waned,  only  lingering  now  in  the  tradition 
of  ancient  courts  and  their  conventional  ceremonies; 
but  it  is  a  conception  of  reverence  which  no  longer  exists 
in  the  open  sunshine  of  work-a-day  life.  It  is  scarcely 
two  centuries  —  if  we  may  trust  our  novels  of  manners 
—  since  men  went  down  upon  their  knees  to  their 
superiors  if  they  wished  to  ask  forgiveness  for  a  fault 
or  to  entreat  a  boon;  but  we  do  not  now  feel  that  a 
fellow-creature  worthy  of  respect  would  be  pleased  with 
such  behaviour.  We  no  longer  think  that  true  dignity 
in  sovereign  or  father  or  benefactor  can  in  any  way  be 
enhanced  by  anything  that  belittles  the  personality  of 
others;  and  attitudes  that  are  undignified  and  ungainly 
express  such  belittlemcnt.  We  think  of  God  as  a  good 
father  who  can  only  find  his  own  dignity  in  the  dignity 
of  his  sons  and  daughters,  or  of  a  good  king  whose 
glory  is  in  the  dignity  and  friendship  of  his  subjects. 


VII       THE  LANGUAGE  OF  THE  SOUL     271 

Summary 

We  have  found  that  language  is  necessary  to  the 
growth  and  development  of  human  life,  and  that  when 
verbal  language  fails,  as  it  always  must  somewhere,  the 
language  of  action  must  be  used,  because  talk  is  a 
function  of  vitality,  and  wherever  means  of  communi- 
cation fail  between  men  and  between  men  and  God, 
there  is  also  a  failure  of  something  that  is  essential  to 
human  life.  We  have  seen  that  the  healthy  soul  neces- 
sarily uses  the  language  of  action  when  it  would  give 
expression  to  thoughts  and  emotions  which  it  cannot  yet 
analyse,  because  they  ascend  from  the  subconscious 
region  where  our  instincts  have  their  common  source, 
so  that  by  association  the  consciousness  of  any  one  in- 
stinct brings  with  it  inexpressible  hints  and  suggestions 
of  them  all.  What  rises  in  the  consciousness  is  un- 
utterable, for  we  cannot  say  "  it  is  this  and  it  is  not 
that,"  for  it  is  in  reality  the  outflow  of  a  living  organism 
toward  all  that  can  enrich  its  existence,  and  the  recep- 
tiveness  of  that  organism  toward  the  source  of  all  en- 
richment. Yet,  while  it  remains  true  that  aspirations 
and  appetites  imply  common  associations,  and  that 
aspirations  of  affection,  of  love,  of  friendship,  of  the 
search  for  truth,  of  admiration,  and  of  the  desire  for 
beauty  and  the  worship  of  the  Source  of  all,  cannot  be 
analysed  because  they  imply  one  another,  it  is  also  true 
that  we  can  analyse  the  language  of  action  which  has 
been  used  to  express  this  unanalysable  outflow,  and  we 
have  endeavoured  to  explain  its  natural  potency  to  re- 
lieve the  soul  and  thus  render  it  receptive  to  an  inflow 
from  its  divine  environment.  God  works  through  the 
power  of  suggestion,  which  we  have  seen  to  mean  a 
method  of  bringing  conviction  to  the  whole  mind,  con- 
scious and  subconscious. 

To  some  of  us  this  explanation  of  the  power  of  a 
Christian  ceremony  will,  I  fear,  seem  irreligious.  But 
if  so,  let  us  ask  ourselves  whether  our  Lord's  reiterated 


272  THE  SPIRIT  VII 

explanation,  "  Your  own  faith  has  saved  you,"  de- 
tracted from  His  teachinjr  that  it  was  by  "  the  power 
of  God,"  "  the  finger  of  God,"  "  the  will  of  God,"  that 
salvation  of  soul  and  body  was  wrought.  It  is  quite 
clear  from  His  whole  teaching  that  He  regarded  the 
power  to  heal  and  reform  as  of  God,  and  as  coming 
upon  man  in  definite  times  and  places  from  the  trans- 
cendent Spirit  of  God.  Yet  He  no  less  implies  that 
the  gift  or  power  waited  upon  something  that  hap- 
pened in  the  minds  of  men  —  upon  the  act  of  faith, 
which  is  the  conviction  of  the  whole  mind,  conscious  and 
subconscious. 

In  an  age  when  all  other  men  looked  to  religious 
magic  for  relief  from  personal  disabilities,  it  displayed 
marvellous  insight  to  declare  that  faith  —  that  is,  an 
attitude  of  the  soul  —  could  reform  conduct,  heal  the 
body,  and  cure  mental  insanities.  There  is  no  more 
striking  evidence  of  the  way  in  which  the  mind  of 
Jesus  transcended  the  minds  of  His  contemporaries, 
including  His  followers,  than  His  insight  into  the 
potency  of  the  inward  attitude  to  heal  and  reform. 
When  all  the  world  believed  that  the  power  to  heal 
body  or  soul  resided  in  the  maj^ician  or  prophet,  He 
saw  —  what  science  has  now  laboriously  learned  — 
that  God  works  through  a  power  of  newness  of  life 
which  arises  within  the  needy  soul.  To  those  who 
brought  to  Him  the  mentally  helpless  He  said  that 
their  own  conviction  that  the  cure  would  be  wrought 
was  necessary  in  order  to  accomplish  it  in  the  patient. 
He  cast  out  no  obsessions  in  Nazareth  because  of  the 
unbelief  of  the  populace.^  To  the  father  of  the  boy 
subject  to  convulsions  He  said,  "  If  thou  canst  be- 
lieve." ^  Any  one  who  has  tended  the  mentally  feeble 
knows  how  much  they  are  affected  by  the  mental  atti- 
tude of  those  who  surround  them.  To  the  poor 
woman  who  touched  His  garment  expecting  a  magical 
cure    He    said,    "  Daughter,    your    faith    has    healed 

1  Matt.  xiii.  s8.  2  Mark  ix.   23. 


VII       THE  LANGUAGE  OF  THE  SOUL     273 

you."  ^  To  the  blind  man  He  said,  "  What  do  you 
want  me  to  do?  Go,  your  faith  has  made  you 
whole."  ^  To  the  converted  courtesan  He  explained 
that  the  chain  of  evil  habit  was  broken:  "  Your  faith 
has  saved  you;  go  in  peace."  *' 

The  ecclesiastical  mind  is  constantly  turning  back, 
thinking  to  find  the  Lord  in  the  dim  atmosphere  of 
Church  history.  The  Christian  too  often  thinks  of 
Jesus  Christ  as  in  the  past.  He  is  not  there.  He  has 
risen  and  gone  before  us  into  the  future.  Again  and 
again  in  Christian  ages  the  reformer  has  found  Him  in 
the  farthest  vista  of  his  own  advancing  path;  and  we, 
entering  an  era  of  psychological  discovery,  find  Him  in 
front,  awaiting  us  at  the  gate  of  a  new  day. 

1  Mark  v.   34. 

2  Mark  x.   52. 

3  Luke  vii.  50. 


VIII 
SPIRITUAL  EXPERIENCE 

BY 

A.  CLUTTON-BROCK 


ANALYSIS 

The   two  kinds   of   experience,   one   scientific,   the  other   aesthetic. 

The  aesthetic  always  the  sense  of  the  personal. 

So  myth  always  expresses  the  personal. 

Art  implies  that  beauty  is  personal. 

The  belief  in  the  personal  in  nature  expresses  our  experience. 

But  we  are  afraid  of  this  personal  in  nature. 

The  fairy  angel  we  try  to  ignore. 

We  confuse  her  with  actual  women  or  with  abstractions. 

And  she  is  ignored  in  our  religion. 

But  not  in  pagan  religion. 

The  Christian  refusal. 

But  there  is  an  orthodoxy  which  does  not  refuse. 

It  is  the  orthodoxy  of  Christ. 

It  brings  the  fairy  angel  close  to  us. 

The  certainty  of  spiritual  experience. 

Our  desire  to  communicate  it. 

Worship  an  effort  to  share  it,  art  to  communicate  it. 

An  example. 

The  need  of  self-surrender  in  spiritual  experience. 
The  nature  of  the  knowledge  it  gives  us. 
The  need  to  act  upon  it. 


VIII 

SPIRITUAL  EXPERIENCE 

Men,  so  long  as  they  have  been  men,  seem  to  have 
experienced  each  other,  and  all  that  is  not  human,  in 
two  different  ways.  The  one  kind  of  experience  they 
express  in  knowledge  and  in  theories  built  on  knowl- 
edge, the  other  in  art  or  myth.  The  one  kind  we  call 
scientific,  the  other  aesthetic,  though  the  words  are 
vague  and  do  not  clearly  express  the  difference  between 
the  two  kinds  of  experience.  For  the  difference  is  this, 
that  in  the  second  or  aesthetic  kind  of  experience  we 
are  aware,  or  think  we  are  aware,  of  something  per- 
sonal; that  is  to  say,  of  something  like  ourselves,  as  we 
know  ourselves  inwardly,  in  all  that  is  not  ourselves. 
Nowadays,  because  of  knowledge  obtained  by  the 
other,  the  scientific  kind  of  experience,  it  is  commonly 
supposed  that  this  sense  of  the  personal  in  all  that  is 
not  human  is  illusion,  is  Itself  but  the  theorising  of 
primitive  man,  the  error  of  his  imperfect  knowledge. 
In  myths,  we  are  told,  primitive  man  expressed  his 
theories  of  the  behaviour  of  the  sun  and  the  moon  and 
the  seasons,  or  what  not.  He  made  stories  of  these 
theories,  because  he  had  not  yet  learned  that  a  theory 
has  its  own  form  of  expression.  Afterwards  he  forgot 
why  he  had  made  the  story,  and  came  to  believe  it  as  a 
matter  of  fact.  Hence  religion.  It  is  assumed  that 
modern  civilised  man  does  not  make  myths  but  only 
theories.  It  is  not  understood  that  myths  and  theories 
are,  and  always  have  been,  different  things,  the  result 
of  different  kinds  of  experience,  and  that  we  still  make 
myths  no  less  than  theories.  Myths  always  have  been, 
and  still  arc,  made  to  express  the  sense  of  the  personal 

277 


278  THE  SPIRIT  viii 

in  all  things.  If  ever  they  come  to  be  believed  as 
matters  ot  fact,  it  is  by  dull  men,  who  are  always  with 
us,  and  who  have  never  experienced  what  they  express, 
or  have  denied  their  own  experience. 

Some  years  ago  I  was  in  the  Maritime  Alps  in  June, 
and  I  came  to  a  spring  in  the  shade  of  a  sweet-chestnut 
tree  on  the  southern  slope  of  the  mountain.  Then  I 
knew  suddenly  how  southern  peoples  had  come  by  their 
myth  of  the  water-nymph.  Standing  myself  in  the 
blazing  sunshine,  I  almost  saw  a  water  nymph  among 
the  waters  of  that  shade.  Water-nymphs  had  always 
seemed  to  me  frigid,  unreal  fancies;  but  now  the  spring, 
in  its  shadowed  beauty  and  contrast  with  the  parched 
heat  of  the  mountain  side,  became  alive,  became  almost 
a  person.  It  was  not  the  legend  of  the  water-nymph 
that  brought  her  to  my  mind;  it  was  the  life  and  beauty 
of  the  stream  that  almost  brought  her  to  my  eyes. 
The  stream  seemed  so  clearly  to  be  occupied  with  a 
lovely,  friendly  business  of  its  own  that  I  almost  saw  a 
lovely,  friendly  creature  doing  it.  Then,  for  a  mo- 
ment, I  knew  what  Paganism  meant  and  why  it  was 
believed.  I  was  a  pagan  myself,  and  saw  what  faith 
and  beauty  we  have  lost  with  it;  and  I  knew  too  why 
poets  have  always  made  and  still  make  myths.  The 
moment  they  experience  nature  intensely  enough  to 
make  poetry  about  it,  they  also  make  myths  about  it. 
So  Shelley  made  a  myth  about  the  Cloud,  not  frigidly 
or  ingeniously  or  because  other  poets  had  made  them, 
but  because  he  could  not  otherwise  express  what  he  had 
experienced: 

I  am  the  daughter  of  earth  and  water, 

And  the  nursling  of  the  sky; 
I  pass  through  the  pores  of  the  ocean  and  shores; 

I  change,  but  I  cannot  die. 
For  after  the  rain,  when  with  never  a  stain 

The  pavilion  of  heaven  is  bare, 
And  the  winds  and  sunbeams  with  their  convex  gleams 

Build  up  the  blue  dome  of  air, 


VIII  SPIRITUAL  EXPERIENCE  279 

I  silently  laugh  at  my  own  cenotaph, 

And  out  of  the  caverns  of  rain, 
Like  a  child  from  the  womb,  like  a  ghost  from  the  tomb, 

I  rise  and  unbuild  it  again. 

He  did  not  believe  all  this  as  a  matter  of  fact,  nor  was 
it  allegory  to  him;  it  happened  to  his  mind  and  was 
the  expression  of  his  Intense  experience  of  clouds.  And 
always,  if  we  experience  them  Intensely  enough,  they 
become  personal  to  us  and  seem  to  be  occupied  with 
their  own  business.  Coleridge  has,  consciously,  ex- 
pressed this  feeling  In  a  gloss  to  The  Ancient  Mariner; 
and  he  says  that  the  experience  came  to  the  Mariner 
when  he  was  wrought  up  to  a  certain  Intensity: 

"  In  his  loneliness  and  fixedness  he  yearneth  towards 
the  journeying  moon,  and  the  stars  that  still  sojourn 
yet  still  move  onward.  And  everywhere  the  blue  sky 
belongs  to  them,  and  is  their  appointed  rest  and  their 
native  country  and  their  own  natural  home  which  they 
enter  unannounced,  as  lords  that  are  certainly  expected, 
and  yet  there  Is  a  silent  joy  at  their  arrival." 

Yet  modern  writers  often  try  to  describe  natural 
beauty  without  what  they  would  call  metaphor.  The 
effort  Is  vain;  the  beauty  so  described  Is  not  beauty  to 
us.  Metaphor  Is  but  the  beginning  of  myth;  It  Is  the 
means  by  which  poets  communicate  their  sense  of  the 
personal  in  all  beauty,  even  the  beauty  of  nature,  a 
sense  which  must  be  expressed  In  personal  terms. 
Even  a  direct,  simple  sentence  like  "  The  silence  that 
is  In  the  starry  sky  "  moves  us  because  It  Is  to  us  the 
silence  of  that  which  could  speak. 

So  In  poetry  and  all  art  there  Is  an  Imolled  dogma 
that  all  beauty  Is  personal.  The  artist  affirms  that  In 
his  art,  even  if  he  would  deny  it  in  his  creed;  and  our 
joy  In  his  art  is  a  joy  in  that  sense  of  the  personal  every- 
where which  he  communicates  to  us.  It  Is  not  his  own 
person  that  he  tries  to  express  to  us.  but  the  personal 
in  that  which  is  not  himself.  That  likeness  of  which 
we  are  aware  in  all  art,  c\cn  music,  and  which  we  call 


28o  THE  SPIRIT  viii 

truth,  is  a  likeness  to  the  personal  which  the  artist  has 
seen  or  felt  and  which  he  communicates  to  us,  whether 
in  speech  or  lines  or  music.  It  he  has  not  seen  or  felt 
it,  he  cannot  draw  its  likeness;  hut  when  he  can  and 
does,  then  we  recognise  it.  The  truth  of  art  is  not  a 
likeness  to  things  as  we  see  them,  when  we  do  not  feel 
the  personal  in  them.  The  artist  is  not  concerned  with 
impersonal  or  scientific  facts  at  all;  he  is  concerned  only 
with  the  personal  that  he  becomes  aware  of  at  a  cer- 
tain point  of  intensity.  And  often  this  personal  ousts 
from  a  picture  all  impersonal  fact  so  completely  that 
the  stupid  are  perplexed.  They  say  it  is  not  like  at 
all,  because  it  is  not  like  those  impersonal  facts  of 
which  alone  they  are  aware.  But  in  music  art  escapes 
from  all  facts  that  can  be  seen  or  stated  in  words  or 
paint.  It  is  concerned  with  the  personal  altogether, 
not  with  that  in  which  the  personal  is  manifested.  It 
is  myth  become  a  pure  voice,  sounds  that  are  utterly 
human,  no  matter  how  great  their  variety  and  com- 
plexity. We  are  aware  of  the  personal  in  the  flight  of 
birds;  but  the  musician  ceases  in  his  music  to  be  aware 
of  the  birds.  He  gives  us  their  motion  and  fellowship, 
with  all  that  is  personal  in  it  and  nothing  else.  So  we 
often  feel  nature  in  music  because  the  musician  has 
given  us  that  personal  in  it  which  he  has  felt  in  nature. 
He  makes  no  reference  to  nature;  but  we  know  the  per- 
sonal which  he  expresses,  that  it  is  of  nature;  we  hear 
the  very  voice  of  the  water-nymph  that  he  has  almost 
seen. 

This  implied  dogma  of  the  personal,  a  dogma  not 
stated  but  proved  in  the  work  of  art,  is  necessary  to  the 
mind  of  man.  We  cannot  be  content  with  the  generic 
impersonal  world  of  things,  functions,  and  processes 
that  science  presents  to  us,  because  it  is  not  the  whole 
of  reality  as  we  experience  it.  It  is  not  that  the  one 
kind  of  experience  contradicts  the  other;  the  personal 
experience  might  itself  be  matter  for  science,  and 
should  be.     We  are  always  passing  swiftly  and  uncon- 


VIII  SPIRITUAL  EXPERIENCE  281 

sciously  from  one  plane  of  experience  to  another;  as 
soon  as  we  see  beauty  and  experience  it  intensely,  we 
pass  to  the  sense  of  the  personal,  and  there  seems  to  be 
person  outside  us  answering  to  person  in  ourselves. 
But  there  is  nowadays  a  sharp  conflict  between  art  and 
science,  because  science,  trespassing  beyond  its  proper 
business  of  seeing  things  generically  in  classes  and  cate- 
gories, putting  on  the  airs  of  philosophy  in  fact,  often 
affirms  that  to  see  them  so  is  to  see  the  only  reality  in 
them.  The  artistic  activity,  it  says,  is  mere  trifling, 
however  pretty  its  products.  And  artists  themselves 
are  apt  to  believe  this;  they  have  lost  faith  in  the 
reality  of  that  experience  which  makes  their  art,  and 
they  have  lost  faith  in  art  as  an  expression  of  reality 
not  to  be  otherwise  expressed.  So  they  fall  into  frigid 
imitations  of  the  convinced  art  of  the  past,  like  those 
eighteenth-century  poets  who  talked  about  nymphs  In 
whom  they  had  no  belief;  or  else  they  turn  to  realism, 
to  an  attempt  to  describe  things  as  they  are  seen 
scientifically,  generically,  with  no  sense  of  the  personal 
in  them.  The  result  in  one  case  is  imitation  art;  in 
the  other  not  art  at  all,  but  a  kind  of  science  without 
its  validity  or  good  faith.  Until  artists  can  regain 
their  faith  In  their  own  experience  of  the  personal,  art 
will  remain  frivolous  and  half-hearted,  or  falsely 
scientific. 

But  why  is  it  that  we  have  so  general  a  desire  to  deny 
our  sense  of  the  personal  In  nature?  Why  do  we  wish 
science  thus  to  trespass  beyond  its  proper  function  and 
deny  philosophically  that  there  is  a  personal  In  nature? 
Why  do  we  misunderstand  myths  and  talk  so  much 
nonsense  about  them?  It  is  always  fear  that  makes 
men  unscientific,  and  the  modern  world  is  afraid  of  its 
own  experiencing  power.  There  is  something  intoxi- 
cating, bewildering,  almost  terrifying  in  this  sense  of 
the  personal  in  nature,  something  that  drags  us  out  of 
our  routine  selves  and  makes  us  wretched  and  hungry 


282  THK  SPIRIT 


VIII 


when  we  sink  back  into  them.  "  Thou  hast  touched 
me  and  I  am  on  fire  for  thy  peace,"  says  Augustine; 
and  we  are  afraid  thus  to  be  touched  and  fired  by  a 
reality  not  ourselves.  It  seems  to  us  incompatible  with 
the  other  reality  of  use  and  wont,  and  of  things  classi- 
fied so  that  we  may  use  and  understand  them.  Poets 
themselves  have  cried  out  against  the  beauty  which  be- 
came personal  to  them  and  allured  them  like  an  en- 
chantress that  could  never  be  possessed.  Keats's  belle 
dame  sans  merci  is  that  beauty;  to  be  in  thrall  to  her  is 
to  fall  asleep  and  wake  on  the  cold  hillside  and  never 
forget  the  dream  of  her.  If  she  is  loved,  it  is  for  ever 
with  mere  desire;  and  Euripides  expresses  the  cruelty 
and  peril  of  her  in  the  Bacchae.  Dionysus  is  la  belle 
dame  sans  merc'i;  he  is  that  personal  in  nature  which 
leads  men  and  women  into  the  hills  and  makes  them 
destroy  what  they  love  most;  and  then  they  wake  and 
see  what  they  have  destroyed.  In  the  Bacchae  is  ex- 
pressed all  the  conflict  in  the  nature  of  man  between  his 
two  planes  of  experience.  Euripides  makes  a  tragedy 
of  it;  but  we  try  to  escape  from  the  tragedy  by  denying 
that  one  plane  is  anything  but  mere  illusion;  and  we  do 
so,  not  because  we  are  scientific,  but  because  we  are 
afraid. 

We  have  locked  up  in  the  cupboard  of  the  world, 
not  a  skeleton,  but  a  fairy  angel.  We  sit  round  the 
fire  and  talk  of  politics  or  religion  or  duty  or  the 
weather,  and  pretend  not  to  hear  when  that  winged 
creature  flutters  her  wings  and  sings;  we  stuff  our  ears 
against  her  as  if  she  were  a  siren.  That  old  story  of 
the  sirens  is  about  her,  and  so  is  the  story  of  the  Lorelei 
and  all  such  enchantresses.  They  express  the  fear  of 
an  earlier  time,  which  it  was  not  ashamed  to  confess. 
But  we  hope  to  rid  ourselves  of  it  by  not  confessing  it, 
by  denying  the  existence  of  the  enchantress.  The 
stories,  we  say,  are  not  about  her,  but  about  the  sun  or 
the  moon  or  the  seasons.  As  for  the  Bacchae,  we 
pretend  not  to  know  what  it  means.     There  is  no  fairy 


VIII  SPIRITUAL  EXPERIENCE  283 

In  the  cupboard;  If  there  is  anything,  it  is  a  skeleton, 
but  most  of  us  say  there  is  nothing.  We  have  only  one 
kind  of  experience  of  reality,  and  that  is  the  scientific. 
The  other  is  all  make-believe. 

Yet,  when  the  poets  and  musicians  tell  of  the  fairy 
angel  we  cannot  help  listening  to  them,  for  her  beauty 
is  in  their  speech  and  song: 

Lamp  of  Earth !  where'er  thou  movest 
Its  dim  shapes  are  clad  with  brightness, 

And  the  souls  of  whom  thou  lovest 
Walk  upon  the  winds  with  lightness, 

Till  they  fail,  as  I  am  failing, 

Dizzy,  lost,  yet  unbewailing. 

You  see,  Shelley  himself  says  that  she  is  dangerous, 
though  he  has  let  her  out  of  the  cupboard;  but  he  says 
it  with  her  music.  We  try  to  enjoy  the  music,  while 
we  say  that  he  is  talking  beautiful  nonsense,  but  non- 
sense cannot  be  beautiful.  And  then,  when  the  musi- 
cians make  their  tunes  about  the  fairy  angel,  tunes  half 
triumphant,  half  despairing  because  they  can  last  only 
a  moment,  we  pretend  that  those  tunes  are  about  some 
woman.  Biographers  tell  us  that  this  or  that  sym- 
phony of  Beethoven  was  written  when  he  was  in  love 
with  a  Boche  princess;  but  he  was  always  in  love  with 
the  fairy  angel.  There  are  even  those  who  say  that  la 
belle  dame  sans  mere}  was  Fanny  Brawne,  and  the 
Bacchae  a  political  pamphlet.  Perhaps  Keats  did  try 
to  persuade  himself  that  Fanny  Brawne  was  la  belle 
dame.  Shelley  was  always  trying  to  persuade  himself 
of  such  things.  Mary,  Emilia  Viviani,  Jane  Williams, 
all  in  turn  were  Lamps  of  Earth  to  him.  As  it  has 
been  said,  "  The  married  life  of  geniuses  is  often  un- 
fortunate; and  the  same  Is  true  of  their  wives;"  they 
cannot  be  married  to  the  fairy  angel.  And  that  is  why 
most  of  us  deny  her  existence.  The  fairy  angel  is 
there,  but  If  we  allowed  ourselves  to  believe  in  her  she 
wouhl  put  us  out  of  conceit  with  our  other  plane  of 


284  THI'    SIMRIT  viii 

experience;  and  we  cannot  always  be  aware  of  her. 
She  comes  and  goes  and  leaves  us  on  the  cold  hillside; 
so  we  say  that  she  neither  comes  nor  goes,  but  is  a  myth 
about  something  else.  Or  else  we  give  her  abstract 
names  like  beauty,  talk  about  it  with  a  pretence  of 
scientific  jargon,  and  say  that  beauty  is  truth,  truth 
beauty.  Keats  said  that  —  "him  even."  All  the 
philosophers  break  their  minds  on  beauty  in  their 
anxiety  to  escape  from  the  perilous  desires  and  illusions 
of  the  poets.  The  philosophers  know,  at  least,  that 
beauty  is  not  Jane  or  Mary  or  Emily;  and  then  mali- 
cious men  of  science  say  that  she  is,  that  she  is  a  mere 
illusion  of  the  sexual  instinct.  That  is  the  language 
they  use  about  the  fairy  angel  in  their  anxiety  not  to 
believe  in  her.  And  then  the  theologians  obtrude 
themselves;  there  is  no  fairy  angel,  they  say,  but  only 
God.  The  mystics  believe  that  the  fairy  angel  is  God, 
but  the  theologians  will  not  have  it  that  God  is  any- 
thing like  a  fairy  angel.  They  talk  about  Him  drily 
and  with  analysis,  as  the  philosophers  talk  about 
beauty.  So  both  try  to  keep  the  fact  and  its  allure- 
ment at  arm's  length;  they  ^tuff  their  ears  with  wax 
against  the  siren's  song.  And  the  devout  try  to  drown 
it  with  Hymns  Ancient  and  Modern,  the  modern  more 
fusty  than  the  ancient;  but  the  fairy  angel  continues  to 
sing  songs  that  are  both  old  and  new  —  everlasting 
songs.  And  in  spite  of  our  efforts  to  ignore  her,  to 
explain  the  origin  of  her  myths,  she  is  still  there;  her 
origin  Is  In  herself,  and  she  remains  as  alluring  and  as 
dangerous  as  ever  she  was. 

Our  religion  ignores  her,  and  that  Is  why  the  poets 
will  have  none  of  it.  A  religion,  to  satisfy  them,  would 
have  the  fairy  angel  singing  at  the  heart  of  It.  Canon 
Scott  Holland  once  wrote  a  piece  about  the  Isle  of 
Innisfree  —  how  the  tune  of  it  would  come  into  his 
mind  in  the  most  incongruous  places,  at  committee 
meetings  or  in  church,  and  how  he  would  have  a  sudden 
desire  to  say,  "  I  will  arise  and  go  now  to  the  Isle  of 


VIII  SPIRITUAL  EXPERIENCE  285 

Innisfree,"  and  lead  all  the  committee-men  and  sides- 
men in  a  dance  after  him.  The  Isle  of  Innisfree  is  the 
home  of  the  fairy  angel,  and  the  song  about  it  has  in  it 
her  music,  which  we  recognise  as  soon  as  we  hear  it; 
but  it  is  not  often  heard  in  church.  It  is  not  the  voice 
of  God  as  we  conceive  Him;  but  if  God  does  not  and 
cannot  sing  like  that,  then  He  is  not  inspired  like 
Schubert  or  Keats  —  which  is  absurd.  If  He  exists  at 
all,  the  uttermost  beauty,  the  most  extreme  enchant- 
ment, must  be  His;  He  cannot  have  left  it  to  a 
dangerous  fairy  or  to  obviously  sinful  artists. 

The  pagans  did  believe  that  this  enchantment  was 
of  God,  or  of  many  gods;  they  were  so  much  aware  of 
the  personal  in  nature  that  they  saw  gods  everywhere, 
not  moral  gods  concerned  to  make  men  good,  but  wilful 
and  alluring,  having  only  the  goodness  of  the  artist,  the 
gift  of  beauty,  and  also  the  vanity  of  the  artist;  being 
very  apt  to  destroy  men  like  Pentheus,  who  were  too 
dull  to  see  their  charms.  But  we  have  denied  all  these 
gods,  and  we  say  that  there  is  one  God,  in  whom  we  see 
nothing  of  Dionysus  or  Apollo  or  Pan.  In  fact,  most 
of  us  see  nothing  in  Him  or  of  Him.  But  the  pagans 
had  this  advantage  over  us,  that  they  did  almost  see 
their  gods.  In  that  personal  quality  of  nature  that 
we  have  schooled  ourselves  to  deny,  their  gods  were 
glimmering  and  whispering: 

The  wind  in  the  reeds  and  the  rushes, 

The  hees  on  the  bells  of  thyme, 
The  birds  on  the  myrtle  bushes, 

The  cicale  above  in  the  lime, 
And  the  lizards  below  in  the  grass. 

These  were  the  music  of  Pan,  half  heard,  and  it  taught 
man  to  make  the  music  that  is  sweetest  to  himself,  a 
music  not  human,  but  the  speech  of  nature  become  per- 
sonal, as  nymphs  arc  not  human  hut  the  beauty  of 
nature  become  personal.  In  both  there  is  a  beauty 
that  never  satisfies  the  desire  it  provokes.      We  think 


286  Till-:  SPIRIT  VIII 

we  are  more  religious  than  the  pagans,  but  most  of  us 
are  less,  because  out  of  fear  we  deny  this  personal 
quality  in  nature  and  impo\erish  our  own  concept  of 
God.  All  the  passion  for  the  fairy  angel  we  try  to 
divert  into  the  passion  of  human  love;  that  is  the  one 
romance  for  us  that  is  left.  So  that  the  young  may 
not  be  tempted  by  the  fairy  angel,  we  encourage  them 
to  believe  that  they  have  found  her  in  Emily  or  Jane. 
We  sigh  heavily  to  ourselves  in  middle  age  —  "  I,  too, 
thought  that  once;  and  how  beautiful  it  was  to  believe 
that  a  fairy  angel  existed;  how  sad  to  know  that  she 
does  not."  But  we  lie  to  ourselves;  for  we  know, 
though  we  will  not  confess  it,  that  she  does  exist, 
though  she  is  not  Jane  or  Emily.  Better  any  infatua- 
tion about  them  than  the  peril  of  believing  in  her. 

Certainly  the  poets  who  have  believed  in  her  have 
been  sad,  if  not  bad  or  mad.  Keats  could  never  forget 
those 

Magic  casements  opening  on  the  foam 
Of  perilous  seas,  in  fairy  lands  forlorn. 

For  him  they  are  cut  off  from  reality,  or  he  is  made 
forlorn  by  being  cut  off  from  their  reality.  The  word 
is  like  a  knell  to  toll  him  back  again  to  his  sole  self  and 
to  the  loneliness  of  the  other  plane  of  experience.  But 
it  is  the  aim  of  religion  to  free  us  from  that  loneliness, 
to  make  us  aware  of  a  universe  in  which  there  are  not 
merely  things  and  processes  and  functions,  but  every- 
where person  answering  to  ourselves;  and  our  religion 
fails  to  do  that  more  and  more  because  the  fairy  angel 
is  left  out  of  it,  left  to  the  poets,  who  therefore  are  not 
religious.  And  because  the  fairy  angel  is  not  in  our 
religion  it  loses  more  and  more  the  power  of  expres- 
sion, and  more  and  more  she  begins  to  call  men  away 
from  it.  How  can  we  achieve  a  reconcilement? 
Some  poets  say  there  is  none  possible: 

Wilt  thou  yet  take  all,  Galilean  ?     But  these  thou  shalt  not  take, 
The  laurel,  the  palms,  and  the  paean,  the  breasts  of  the  nymphs 
in  the  brake ; 


VIII  SPIRITUAL  EXPERIENCE  287 

Breasts  more  soft  than  a  dove's,   that   tremble  with   tenderer 

breath ; 
And  all  the  wings  of  the  loves  ;  and  all  the  joy  before  death  ; 
All  the  feet  of  the  hours  that  sound  as  a  single  lyre, 
Dropped  and  deep  in  the  flowers  with  strings  that  flicker  like  fire. 
More  than   these  wilt  thou  give,   things  fairer  than  all  these 

things  ? 

It  is  supposed  that  the  Galilean  teaches  us  how  to 
escape  from  the  peril  of  them  by  mere  refusal.  The 
early  Church  said  that  all  the  pagan  gods  were  fiends; 
Apollo  became  Apollyon;  but  we  have  never  quite 
forced  ourselves  to  believe  that,  and  Satan  himself  has 
for  us  some  of  the  splendour  of  a  pagan  god.  In  fact, 
though  we  pretend  to  believe  in  a  Trinity,  we  have 
split  up  the  full  idea  of  God  into  two,  because  we 
despair  and  are  afraid  of  the  uttermost  beauty  and 
delight.  There  is  our  God,  and  Lucifer;  and  Lucifer 
is  the  alluring  half  of  God  that  we  fear  and  deny  and 
call  the  fallen  angel.  He  is  the  beauty  that  seems  to 
tempt  us  away  from  duty  —  Tintoret  painted  Christ 
Himself  as  tempted  by  him;  he  is,  we  think,  incom- 
patible with  our  life;  he  is  the  lovely  danger  at  the 
heart  of  the  universe.  Milton  makes  him  say.  Evil, 
be  thou  my  good;  but  it  is  rather  we  that  say.  Good, 
be  thou  my  evil;  because  this  ultimate  beauty  seems 
to  us  incompatible  with  our  life,  and  is  a  good  we 
despair  of.  Augustine  speaks  of  a  beauty  old  as  new 
that  he  learnt  to  love  too  late;  and  that  beauty  is  to 
him  God.  The  theologians  and  the  philosophers  have 
split  up  that  beauty  also,  from  their  fear  of  experienc- 
ing it.  The  theologians  make  a  (jod  of  it,  too  per- 
sonal in  a  narrow,  ugly  way;  the  philosophers  make  an 
Absolute,  empty  and  arid.  And  between  them  the 
beauty  old  as  new,  the  fairy  angel,  is  vanished;  and  we 
are  left  with  nothing  to  believe  in  that  we  can  love 
with  the  whole  of  us.  There  is  still  the  music  of  the 
poets,  still  the  Isle  of  Innisfree,  outside  our  religion, 
and  so  seeming  mischievous,  capricious,  malign.      Be- 


288  THE  SPIRIT  viii 

yond  God,  beyond  the  Absolute,  and  still  more  real 
than  both,  there  is  this  actual  beauty  in  the  sunset,  so 
tender  but  not  to  us;  in  the  spring,  so  gay  but  not  with 
us;  the  beauty  of  the  earth,  that  loves  into  the  voitl. 
We  call  the  earth  a  mother,  but  not  ours.  Nature  is 
omnipotent,  but  she  will  not  gather  us  into  her  peace; 
she  makes  a  transcendent  paradise  of  the  universe,  but 
leaves  us  outside  It  In  exile. 

So  we  feel  towards  the  personal  beauty  of  nature, 
and  we  feel  so  more  and  more  the  longer  we  deny  it 
to  be  personal.  It  pains  us,  and  the  modern  poet  fills 
his  song  with  that  pain.  There  Is  to  him  a  God  in  this 
nature  but  an  unacknowledged  God,  unlike  the  other 
God  whom  some  men  worship  and  he  cannot.  Science 
tells  us,  dully  and  confidently,  that  this  personal  is  not. 
The  religious  believe  It,  and  in  that  belief  are  blind  to 
the  divine  which  was  seen  by  the  heathen  In  his  blind- 
ness, and  are  left  with  a  dull  divine  of  their  own,  cut 
off  from  nature  and  Immediate  experience  like  a  dried 
plant.  It  cannot  have  been  so  when  men  built  the 
great  cathedrals,  which  have  the  diversity,  the  swarm- 
ing and  dangerous  beauty,  of  nature  herself.  They 
were  built  as  shrines  of  the  beauty,  old  as  new,  which 
was  almost  imprisoned  in  them.  But  now  we  build  tin 
tabernacles  and  Imitation  Gothic  churches,  with  the 
fairy  angel  laughing  outside  them ;  and  we  spend  marble 
and  gilding  on  eating-houses,  trying  to  make  another 
paradise  with  the  fairy  angel  still  left  outside.  We 
have  utterly  separated  spirit  and  sense;  but  that  fairy 
angel  Is  both,  with  a  double  allurement  so  strong  that 
we  fear  it.  So  we  are  Manichees  at  heart;  for  the 
Manichaean  heresy  Is  but  the  conscious,  deliberate 
statement  of  a  fear,  and  the  assertion  that  It  is  wisdom 
and  truth.  The  fear  Is  latent  In  all  men,  and  the  facts 
of  life  seem  to  justify  It.  Spirit  and  flesh  are  manage- 
able If  we  separate  them,  but  fused  together  they  sweep 
us  away.  So  we  are  always  trying  to  separate  them, 
and  to  conceive  of  the  universe  itself  as  not  one  but 


VIII  SPIRITUAL  EXPERIENCE  289 

two,  the  one  all  and  the  other  nothing,  the  one  real,  the 
other  unreal,  the  one  pure  and  cold  and  the  other  warm 
and  foul.  And,  whether  we  are  devout  or  sceptical,  we 
are  afraid  of  the  reality  in  which  matter  and  spirit  are 
fused,  and  which  the  pagan  saw  and  worshipped.  We 
dare  not  even  ask  ourselves  that  besetting  question,  Is 
there  something  malign  in  the  very  heart  of  the  uni- 
verse? Is  the  uttermost  beauty,  delight,  excellence 
hostile  to  us,  incompatible  with  our  well-being,  derisive 
of  our  native  mediocrity?  Are  we  but  moths  to  its 
flame,  moths  for  whom  the  only  wisdom  is  to  fly  away 
into  the  darkness  and  cold? 

That  question  is  put  again  and  again  in  poetry;  it 
sounds  in  all  the  pleading  of  music  —  the  desire  of  the 
moth  for  the  star;  it  sounds  even  in  the  prayers  of  the 
saints.  But  the  sensible  man  of  the  world  says, 
"  What  nonsense.  There  is  no  star,  and  I  am  not  a 
moth,"  and  all  the  while  he  knows  in  his  heart  that  he 
lies.  He  is  a  moth  and  there  is  a  star;  and  he  is  not 
content  to  have  refused  his  desire  for  it.  The  best  he 
can  do  is  not  to  think  about  it,  and  attend  to  business; 
but  in  that  successful  inattention  of  his  no  one  loves 
him.  W^e  love  those  who  cannot  forget  the  star  and 
who  express  their  love  of  it  in  music.  We  call  their 
music  divine,  even  though  we  may  smile  at  those  who 
make  it;  and  we  remember  them  through  the  ages  while 
we  forget  the  men  of  business. 

But  with  this  Manichaeism,  with  this  split  between 
the  two  gods  and  between  men  into  mediocrities  and 
wild  poets,  there  still  persists  faintly  a  great  orthodox 
tradition  between  two  heresies.  To  that  tradition 
Christ  is  not  the  pale  Galilean,  the  denier  and  for- 
bidder ;  He  is  not  one  who  would  make  us  safe  from  tli'^- 
flame,  nor  is  He  the  wild  rebel  who  rushes  like  a  m  it': 
into  it  and  then  weeps  for  his  scorched  wings.  Cer- 
tainly, Christ  never  denounces  the  fairy  anj.i^cl;  and 
there  is  something  of  her  in  His  Kingdom  of  1  lca\cn. 


290  THK  SPIRIT  viii 

somethinp;  that  \vc  have  left  out  of  it.  If  she  is  beauti- 
ful, so  is  His  Kingdom;  and  the  music  which  the  poeta 
have  learnt  from  her  is  also  in  His  speech:  "Con- 
sider the  lilies  of  the  field,  how  they  toil  not  neither  do 
they  spin;  yet  I  say  unto  you  that  Solomon  in  all  his 
glory  was  not  arrayed  like  one  of  these."  There  at 
least  is  the  personal  in  nature  felt  and  expressed;  and, 
He  tells  us,  if  we  see  it,  we  shall  not  mistake  riches  for 
beauty.  And  some  of  the  great  Christian  visionaries 
have  spoken  of  God  as  if  He  were  the  fairy  angel: 
"  With  Thy  calling  and  shouting  my  deafness  was 
broken;  with  Thy  glittering  and  shining  my  blindness 
was  put  to  flight.  At  the  scent  of  Thee  I  drew  in  my 
breath,  and  I  pant  for  Thee.  I  have  tasted,  and  I 
hunger  and  thirst;  Thou  hast  touched  me,  and  I  am  on 
fire  for  Thy  peace." 

In  Christ's  Kingdom  of  Heaven  there  is  allurement; 
a  man  who  sees  it  will  give  up  all  for  it;  and  He  said 
that  men  must  desert  all  duties  for  it,  must  leave  father 
and  mother;  He  was  exasperated  with  those  who  would 
not  leave  their  duties  for  it.  It  was  to  Him  an  en- 
chantment, but  not  malign;  for  at  the  heart  of  it  He 
saw,  not  la  belle  dame  sans  merci,  but  our  Father  which 
is  in  Heaven.  Yet,  because  to  us  our  Father  which  is 
in  Heaven  means  the  God  whom  in  our  timidity  we 
have  emptied  of  all  enchantment,  we  do  not  see  Christ 
among  the  poets  and  music-makers,  His  peers,  but 
among  the  preachers  and  edifiers.  We  place  Him 
among  His  own  commentators  as  if  He  commented  on 
life.  He  did  not;  He  made  music  about  it,  He  spoke 
of  it  like  a  poet,  but  with  an  audacity  beyond  theirs. 
They  have  seen  the  fairy  angel  and  desired  her,  but 
despaired;  He  said,  Live  for  her  and  forget  everything 
else;  for  she  is  God.  Her  beauty  is  not  incompatible 
with  life;  to  see  it  is  to  know  eternal  life.  The  uni- 
verse is  not  malign,  tempting  you  with  siren  songs.  Its 
music  does  not  come  and  go,  but  sounds  for  ever  if  you 
will   hear    it.      Nor    is    it    only    far    away    among   the 


viii  SPIRITUAL  EXPERIENCE  291 

mountains  and  stars.  There  is  the  same  wild  beauty 
in  the  voices  of  children,  for  of  such  is  the  Kingdom 
of  Heaven;  and  in  the  light  of  a  cottage  window,  and 
in  any  mother  with  her  child.      Chaucer  says : 

In  reverence  of  Heaven's  Queen 
We  ought  to  worship  all  women  that  been. 

Christ  puts  it  the  other  way.  In  all  women  that  be 
we  ought  to  worship  Heaven's  Queen. 

Implied  in  the  Christian  faith,  but  not  yet  clearly 
expressed,  is  the  doctrine  that  we  must  discipline  our- 
selves to  find  beauty  if  it  is  not  to  lead  us  and  lose  us 
in  the  wilderness.  In  Swinburne's  lines  about  the  Pale 
Galilean,  which  I  have  quoted,  we  can  almost  see  the 
beauty  of  the  earth  coming  to  life  before  our  eyes  and 
in  our  ears.  It  is  not  merely  women  or  flowers,  or 
man's  music  separate  from  the  sounds  of  nature;  there 
is  the  glimmer  and  whisper  and  scent  of  spiritual  be- 
ings, refusing  the  last  friendship  with  us,  giving  passion 
and  unappeasable  desire  to  the  delight  of  the  senses. 
And  the  poets  say  that  only  through  that  delight  can 
we  know  what  spirit  is;  while  the  preachers  say  that  we 
must  ignore  that  delight  if  we  would  know  what  spirit 
is;  and  those  who  call  Christ  the  pale  Galilean  think 
that  He  was  one  of  the  preachers.  They  think  that 
He  superseded  Paganism;  He  said  that  He  superseded 
the  Pharisees.  He  never  said  a  word  against  the 
laurel,  the  palms,  and  the  paean,  the  breasts  of  the 
nymphs  in  the  brake;  and  He  was  with  the  poets  in 
this  at  least,  that  He  told  men  to  give  up  their  routine 
for  something  wonderful,  beautiful  and  incompatible 
with  routine.  "  Blessed  arc  they  which  hunger  and 
thirst  after  righteousness;  for  they  shall  be  satisfied." 
It  is  only  in  tlie  last  words  that  He  differs  from  the 
poets;  they  lament  that  they  are  for  ever  unsatisfied; 
He  tells  us  that,  if  we  hunger  atui  thirst  enough,  we 
shall  be  satisfied.  And  what  does  He  mean  by  this 
righteousness,    this   Kingdom   of   Heaven,    this   seeing 


292  TIIK  SPIRIT  VIII 

God,  of  which  He  is  always  speaking?  One  thing  we 
know  for  certain;  lie  means  tlie  utter  yielding  to  a 
desire  which  at  first  seems  unappeasable.  He  tells  us 
to  have  the  courage  of  that  desire;  and  He  denounces 
most  those  who  have  not  the  courage  of  it.  He  did 
not  denounce  Paganism,  but  that  which  Is  common  to 
all  exhausted  religions,  the  stupid  rules  and  ceremonies 
and  sacrifices,  the  boredom  which  thinks  It  acquires 
merit  by  being  bored,  the  stuffiness  that  shuts  out  from 
the  tin  tabernacle  all  the  lovely  danger  at  the  heart  of 
the  universe,  the  stained-glass  effigies  of  Himself  that 
obscure  what  might  be  magic  casements  opening  on  the 
foam  of  perilous  seas.  He  certainly  looked  out  on  the 
foam  of  perilous  seas,  and  said  that  In  the  end  they 
were  less  perilous  than  our  safety.  But  He  does  Im- 
pose a  discipline  on  the  hunger  and  thirst  for  beauty. 
We  are  to  seek  It  and  seek  it  until  we  find  it  in  things 
that  we  have  despised.  It  Is  not  In  Its  nature  proud 
and  distant,  but  humble  and  near,  and  we  come  closer 
to  it,  not  by  Impatience  but  by  patience.  We  can  un- 
derstand la  belle  dame  only  If  we  see  her  beauty  also  in 
the  women  and  the  children  around  us;  and  then  she 
will  not  be  without  pity  for  us,  nor  will  she  leave  us  to 
wake  on  the  cold  hillside.  But  we  must  see  this  beauty 
close  at  hand,  we  must  see  that  children  are  of  the 
Kingdom  of  Heaven,  If  we  are  to  fill  our  religion  with 
the  wild  beauty  which  It  lacks,  with  the  music  of  the 
Isle  of  Innlsfree.  St.  Francis  tried  to  bring  that  music 
Into  our  religion;  but  we  think  him  quaint,  odd,  even  a 
little  mad.  There  was  a  time  when  the  dance  began 
to  steal  Into  our  worship;  but  it  has  been  expelled,  and 
now  we  only  bow  and  kneel  as  if  we  were  at  Court. 

A  Church  paper  lately  said  that  I  took  a  merely 
human  view  of  Christ;  but  Christ  Himself,  and  It  was 
the  essence  of  His  doctrine,  did  not  take  a  merely 
human  view  of  any  man.  Now  the  despairing  poets, 
no  less  than  the  men  of  business  and  the  preachers,  do 
take  a  merely  human  view  of  men.     They  say  that  we 


VIII  SPIRITUAL  EXPERIENCE  293 

are  cut  off  from  this  personal  that  is  at  the  heart  of  all 
beauty  by  our  own  mediocrity;  but  they  cry  for  it  even 
in  their  despair;  while  the  men  of  the  world,  and  even 
the  preachers,  say  that,  if  we  tell  ourselves  firmly  it 
does  not  exist,  it  will  cease  to  exist  for  us.  They 
would  cut  us  off  from  all  actual  spiritual  experience; 
or,  at  best,  they  tell  us  that  spiritual  experience  is  what 
it  is  not,  that  it  consists  in  seeing  the  goodness  of  God 
in  a  sunset,  and  a  text  in  the  starry  sky.  But  the  poets 
at  least  know  better  than  that;  they  do  give  us  the 
beauty  of  the  sunset  and  not  a  moral  drawn  from  it. 
Christ  tells  us  something  different  from  both.  He 
tells  us  that  if  we  dare  everything,  sacrifice  everything, 
we  shall  see  His  Kingdom  of  Heaven  and  be  of  it.  He 
does  not  say  that  stout,  comfortable  men  in  black  coats 
can  tell  us  all  about  it.  To  be  aware  of  it  is  a 
dangerous  business;  but,  when  you  are  utterly  aware  of 
it,  then  you  will  see,  not  la  belle  dame  sans  merci,  but 
God  Himself  at  the  heart  of  it.  Whether  He  speaks 
the  truth  or  not  is  not  for  me  to  say,  nor  for  any  of 
us,  least  of  all  for  the  stout,  comfortable  men;  but 
we  may  assume  without  superstition  that  He  Himself 
saw  what  He  took  to  be  God,  and  the  Father  of  us  all, 
at  the  heart  of  it.  The  power  of  Christ  over  genera- 
tion after  generation  is  not  so  much  in  the  doctrine 
supposed  to  be  His,  which  is  constantly  perverted  and 
provokes  revolt  against  its  innumerable  perversions,  as 
in  the  intensity  of  His  spiritual  experience  which  all 
men  still  can  recognise  in  the  beauty  of  His  speech. 
What  He  really  says  is  always  this  —  that  He  sees 
God  in  His  Kingdom  of  Heaven  and  that  we  can  see 
Him  too.  And  He  convinces  us  that  he  has  seen  God; 
no  one  ever  had  such  a  power  of  convincing.  Thou- 
sands of  those  who  refuse  to  call  themselves  Christians 
are  unknowingly  charged  with  His  faith  that  there  is  a 
Kingdom  of  Heaven,  so  that  His  power  of  seeing  it  is 
not  His  alone  but  an  inheritance  for  all  mankind.  We 
may  begin  with  Paul:      "  I  am  utterly  persuaded  that 


294  THE  SPIRIT  VIII 

neither  death  nor  life,  nor  angels,  nor  principalities 
nor  powers,  nor  things  present  nor  things  to  come,  nor 
height  nor  depth,  no,  nor  any  other  creature,  shall  be 
able  to  separate  us  from  the  love  of  God,  which  is  in 
Christ  Jesus  our  Lord."  And  we  may  end  with  these 
words  of  William  Morris : 

Ye  know  not  how  void  is  your  hope  and  your  living; 
Depart  with  your  helping  lest  ye  undo  me. 
Ye  know  not  that  at  nightfall  she  draweth  near  to  me, 
There  is  soft  speech  between  us  and  words  of  forgiving 
Till  at  dead  of  the  midnight  her  kisses  thrill  through  me; 
Pass  by  me  and  barken  and  waken  me  not. 

In  these  passages,  and  many  like  them  might  be 
quoted  from  all  the  centuries,  there  is  the  orthodoxy  of 
those  who  have  found  not  merely  la  belle  dame  sans 
merc't  In  all  beauty,  who  are  not  frightened  by  their 
spiritual  experience  but  assured  by  it.  Indeed,  the 
mark  of  all  full  spiritual  experience,  whether  it  be  of 
beauty  or  of  righteousness  or  of  truth,  Is  always  cer- 
tainty. 

Here  is  the  house  of  fulfilment  of  craving, 

Here  is  the  cup  with  the  roses  around  it, 

The  world's  wound  well  healed  and  the  balm  that  hath  bound  it 

Cry  out  for  one  heedeth  and  leadeth  you  home. 

Christ  speaks  of  seeing  God;  that  Is  the  most  ex- 
treme expression  of  certainty;  Paul  also  of  the  Love  of 
God  which  Is  In  Christ  Jesus.  The  language  of 
Morris  Is  different;  but  the  Images  of  sex  which  he 
uses  are  an  under  rather  than  an  over-statement  of  the 
warmth,  closeness,  certainty  of  a  passion  which  for 
him,  as  for  all  the  religious,  Is  mutual.  And  It  Is  this 
certainty  that  gives  to  their  words  the  convincing  power 
of  beauty.  But  there  Is  not  one  of  them  who  says 
exactly  what  he  Is  certain  of.  The  theologians  have 
worked  upon  the  words  of  Christ  and  tried  to  turn 
them  Into  literal  dogmas;  but  In  themselves  they  are 
poetry,  the  expression  of  triumphant  certainty  rather 


VIII  SPIRITUAL  EXPERIENCE  295 

than  of  that  about  which  He  Is  certain.  "  The  words 
that  I  speak  unto  you  I  speak  not  of  myself."  That 
which  He  has  seen  speaks  In  him;  It  Is  the  very  spiritual 
experience  that  speaks  In  Him,  and  for  all  men,  and  to 
all  men;  and  It  Is  not  merely  Himself  who  says  them. 
By  this  we  may  know  the  expression  of  full  spiritual 
experience,  Its  certainty,  and  the  sense  of  a  universal 
voice  speaking  In  It.  And  we  too,  when  we  hear  it, 
are  certain  and  do  n'ot  ask  what  we  are  certain  of. 
For  that  universal  voice  is  ours  also;  It  lives  in  us  long 
after  the  man  who  uttered  it  has  gone  from  us.  "  Yet 
a  little  while  and  the  world  seeth  me  no  more;  but  ye 
see  me;  because  I  live,  ye  shall  live  also."  That  is 
true  of  all  those  who  have  expressed  spiritual  experi- 
ence for  us,  no  matter  In  what  form.  They  are  gone; 
but  we  see  them  still  and  share  in  their  life  and  their 
certainty.  When  we  hear  Mozart's  Ave  Verum,  it  is 
ours  no  less  than  his;  we  pass  beyond  time  and  change 
and  out  of  the  prison  of  self  Into  the  freedom  of  that 
common  certainty;  we  are  no  longer  troubled  with  the 
desire  of  the  moth  for  the  star,  nor  are  we  ourselves 
incompatible  with  that  which  we  experience. 

But  there  Is  no  division  so  deep  as  that  between  those 
who  recognise  and  value  this  experience  and  those  who 
do  not. 

When  you  have  once  experienced  the  Choral  Sym- 
phony, then,  if  some  one  tells  you  that  he  prefers  the 
Intermezzo  from  Cavalleria  Rusticana,  you  are  not 
troubled  —  except  for  him.  You  know  that  he  has 
not  experienced  the  symphony;  if  he  had,  he  would  not 
say  what  he  does  say.  The  gap  between  you  is  of  the 
same  kind  as  the  gap  between  one  who  has  seen  with 
the  eyes  and  one  who  has  not.  Or  rather  It  Is  even 
greater;  it  is  the  gap  between  the  blind  and  the  seeing, 
between  those  who  see  and  those  who  deny  that  there  Is 
anything  to  be  seen.  It  is  a  gap  that  cannot  be  over- 
come by  argument.  Yet  those  who  see  can  never  be 
content  to  leave  the  blind  in  their  blindness;  for  spir- 


296  Till-:  SPIRIT  viii 

itual  experience  Is  of  such  a  nature  that  it  is  not  con- 
sumriiated  until  it  is  shared.  It  is  part  of  the  affirma- 
tion produced  by  it,  that  all  men  can  share  it  if  they 
will;  and  it  is  not  complete  for  any  man,  and  docs  not 
produce  the  happiness  of  utter  certainty,  until  all  men 
do  share  it,  until  the  words  —  Quod  semper,  qiiod 
ubiqtic,  quod  ah  omuibiis  —  come  true  at  last.  That 
would  be  the  Millennium  of  which  poets  have  dreamed 
—  this  certainty  coming  suddenly  to  all  men,  like  music 
in  the  night.  So  it  was  Shelley  saw  the  Millennium  in 
Prometheus  Unbound. 

A  sentinel  was  sleeping  at  the  gate 

When  there  was  heard  a  sound,  so  loud  it  shook 

The  towers  amid  the  moonlight  .  .  . 

A  long,  long  sound  as  it  would  never  end ; 

And  all  the  inhabitants  leaped  suddenly 

Out  of  their  rest,  and  gathered  in  the  streets, 

Looking  in  wonder  up  to  heaven,  while  yet 

The  music  pealed  along. 

At  the  height  of  spiritual  experience  we  always  look 
in  wonder  up  to  heaven  while  the  music  peals;  and  it 
seems  to  us  that  all  must  hear  it.  It  is  not  for  our 
private  ear;  if  it  were,  it  would  not  be  the  music  of 
heaven  which  speaks  to  the  whole  listening  earth;  and 
why  are  not  all  men  listening?  Those  who  will  not 
listen  seem  to  deny  themselves  the  fellowship  of  that 
music;  they  refuse  the  Millennium  and  frustrate  it 
with  their  refusal;  they  prefer  their  own  bray  to  the 
song  of  celestial  nightingales.  Perhaps  that  was  what 
Creighton  meant  when  he  said,  "  You  may  let  the  ape 
and  tiger  die;  but  you  still  have  to  deal  with  the 
donkey."  The  human  donkey,  a  libel  on  a  charming 
animal,  Is  sceptical  where  he  should  be  certain,  sceptical 
from  mere  insensibilitv  and  because  he  cannot  hear 
music  for  the  noise  of  his  own  bray.  He  will  listen  to 
nothing  but  another  braver,  and  that  only  on  condition 
that  the  brayer  shall  listen  to  him  in  turn.  But  we 
must  not  think  that  the  donkey  is  extinct  in  ourselves 


VIII  SPIRITUAL  EXPERIENCE  297 

and  supreme  In  others;  he  is  Intermittent  in  all  of  us. 
A  woman  sitting  next  to  you  at  a  concert,  who  fans 
herself,  munches  chocolates,  and  looks  at  her  nose  in  a 
bag  mirror  may  hear  the  music  at  some  other  time 
when  you  are  deaf  to  it;  then  you  will  be  the  donkey  to 
her.  So  we  are  estranged  from  each  other  and  filled 
with  thoughts  of  murder;  but  they  will  not  help  us  to 
communicate  our  spiritual  experience. 

The  chief  purpose  of  worship  Is  to  draw  us  into  the 
fellowship  of  spiritual  experience;  and  it  is  a  useful  rule 
of  decorum  that  people  should  not  fan  themselves  in 
church  or  eat  chocolates  or  look  at  their  noses  in  a 
bag-mirror.  They  know  that  in  church  such  behaviour 
would  prevent  the  fellowship  of  spiritual  experience. 
But  unfortunately  there  is  another,  more  servile  motive 
for  decorum  in  church.  We  must  behave  ourselves 
there  lest  God  should  be  offended;  and  so  churchgoers 
put  up  with  much  in  their  services  that  cannot  produce 
any  spiritual  experience,  because  they  think  they  acquire 
merit  by  being  bored.  It  is  as  if  they  were  listening  to 
a  dull  play  at  Court.  One  does  not  criticise  the  drama 
as  it  is  performed  at  Windsor;  one  acquires  merit  by 
being  there.  We  must  get  rid  of  this  notion  of  ac- 
quiring merit  by  going  to  church  if  we  are  to  keep  the 
services  alive.  We  must  apply  this  test  to  them:  Do 
they  produce  in  us  a  common  spiritual  experience? 
Not  always,  for  the  failure  may  be  in  ourselves,  but  at 
least  sometimes.  Otherwise  we  are  on  the  way  to  the 
prayer  wheels  of  Tibet,  or  to  the  miner  who  wrote  up 
his  prayers  over  his  bed  and  every  night  jerked  his 
thumb  towards  them  and  said,  "  My  sentiments." 

But  worship  docs  keep  us  aware  of  the  need  for  the 
fellowship  of  spiritual  experience,  and  there  can  be  no 
complete  worship  without  art.  For  art  exists  because 
of  men's  desire  to  communicate  their  spiritual  experi- 
ence to  each  other,  and  so  to  consummate  it.  That 
desire  accomplished  is  what  we  mean  by  expression. 
Expression  comes  ot    the  desire  to  make  spiritual  ex- 


2q8  the  SPlRir  viii 

perience  complete  by  making  it  common.  "  This  has 
happened  to  me,  hut  not  fully  until  it  has  also  hap- 
pened to  you."  The  artist  has  the  eagerness  of  the 
child  who  tells  you  all  about  it;  if  he  has  not,  he  is  only 
a  proud,  dull  virtuoso.  But,  while  the  child  speaks  to 
one  listener,  the  artist  speaks  to  all  mankind;  and  he 
does  not  merely  tell  us  about  his  spiritual  experience; 
he  makes  it  happen  to  us.  That  is  where  he  differs 
from  the  bore  who  tells  us  about  his  spiritual  experience 
as  something  we  must  envy  but  cannot  share.  And 
that  is  where  the  artist  is  like  Heaven,  where  there  is 
more  joy  over  one  sinner  that  repenteth  than  over 
ninety-and-nine  just  men.  For  the  sinner  who  repents 
is  drawn  into  the  fellowship  of  spiritual  experience  and 
makes  it  more  complete  for  Heaven  itself. 

So,  when  we  affirm  the  supreme  value  of  a  work  of 
art,  we  affirm  the  supreme  value  of  the  artist's  experi- 
ence, which  he  has  made  ours.  All  art  is  the  present- 
ment in  some  form  or  other  of  that  which,  in  reality, 
has  produced  spiritual  experience;  and  it  is  possible  for 
art  to  exist  because  the  same  things  will  produce  the 
same  spiritual  experience  in  all  men,  if  only  they  can  be 
rid  of  the  obstructions  to  it  in  themselves.  The  artist 
by  his  power  does  rid  us  of  these  obstructions  better 
than  we  can  rid  ourselves  of  them.  We  might  meet  a 
woman  like  Cordelia  and  see  nothing  in  her;  she  might 
be  only  a  saucy  miss  to  us;  but  Shakespeare  makes  us 
experience  her  as  he  did.  It  does  not  matter  that  he 
may  never  have  met  just  that  woman;  she  is  for  him  a 
concentration  of  his  spiritual  experience  of  many 
women,  without  which  he  could  not  have  drawn  her. 
And  she,  with  that  beauty  of  character  displayed  in 
action  and  speech  which  is  like  the  beauty  of  music, 
makes  us  cry  "  I  believe  "  like  a  tune  and  like  an  actual 
human  being  whom  we  ourselves  experience  spiritually. 

There  is  no  difference  in  effect  between  the  spiritual 
experience  of  art  and  the  spiritual  experience  of  reality; 
only  art  communicates  to  us  a  spiritual  experience  of 


VIII  SPIRITUAL  EXPERIENCE  299 

reality  which  most  of  us  cannot  get  from  it  as  surely 
and  intensely  as  the  great  artist.  The  value  of  art 
consists  in  this  that,  by  its  technique,  pl'ot,  structure, 
composition  —  whatever  the  art  may  be  —  it  does  lead 
us  into  spiritual  experience  with  a  certainty  lacking  to 
the  ev^ents  of  real  life;  and  the  proper  aim  of  all 
technique  and  all  method  is  so  to  lead  us  into  spiritual 
experience,  not  because  the  artist  wishes  to  do  us  good, 
but  because  the  desire  to  communicate  his  experience 
is  a  part  of  the  experience  itself.  And  in  the  certainty 
with  which  we  are  led  into  spiritual  experience,  and  the 
sense  of  certainty  induced  from  the  very  start,  lies  the 
cumulative  power  of  art.  We  know  that  we  are  being 
led,  in  King  Lear  or  the  Choral  Symphony,  from  the 
first  words,  from  the  first  notes.  They  are  full  of  sur- 
prises for  us,  but  not  of  disappointments;  what  they 
promise,  that  they  perform,  though  in  ways  we  never 
expect,  since  they  are  not  borrowed  ways. 

I  know  no  better  example  of  the  nature  of  spiritual 
experience,  and  of  the  unexpected  manner  in  which  art 
may  communicate  it,  than  the  end  of  the  Marriage  of 
Figaro.  It  is  based  on  Beaumarchais'  play,  and  the 
libretto  seems  to  leave  most  of  the  point  of  that  play 
out.  For  the  play,  being  satire,  gives  us  negative 
spiritual  experience.  It  shows  us  a  society  without  the 
values  that  are  implied  in  Beaumarchais'  reductio  ad 
absiirdum  of  it.  But  that  is  not  Mozart's  game;  he 
cannot  breathe  in  the  negative  world  of  satire  for  long; 
his  music  must  be  positive.  So  the  libretto,  seeking 
opportunities  for  Mozart's  genius,  leaves  most  of  the 
satire  out;  it  is  mere  intrigue  without  the  point  of 
Beaumarchais'  deadly  bland  demonstration.  Mozart 
was  not  deadly  or  bland,  and  fools  have  thought  that 
in  this  music  he  was  content  to  trifle.  But  with  the 
waywardness  of  the  artist  he  has  his  divine  inevitable 
surprise  for  those  who  can  hear  it.  It  is  an  absurd 
world  and  an  absurd  libretto  that  he  accepts,  as  a  ch'ld 
will   accept  any  story;  and  he   carries   us   along  with 


300  Till':  SIM  KIT  VIII 

him  as  if  he  were  just  a  charming  child  to  whom  wc 
listen,  smiling  in  our  superior  wisdom.  And  then  sud- 
denly at  the  end  he  lifts  us  into  the  scene  of  general 
forgiveness;  and  wc,  if  we  can  hear  the  beauty  of  his 
music,  know  that  this  is  reality,  more  real  than  all  the 
logical  tortures  of  Ibsen.  Of  course,  all  these  people 
are  absurd  and  some  of  them  worse;  the  music  has 
made  fun  of  them  and  of  all  mankind.  But  when  at 
last  they  kneel  down  and  forgive  each  other,  the  music 
transforms  them  and  all  mankind  by  a  miracle  that  we 
must  believe  in.  They  are  ourselves  no  less  than  them- 
selves, and,  because  we  forgive  them  with  the  inspired 
tenderness  of  Mozart,  we  forgive  ourselves  also. 
There  is  a  sudden  relenting  of  the  whole  universe;  it  is 
the  parable  of  the  prodigal  son  made  universal  in  that 
music;  and  at  the  moment  of  common  confession  and 
forgiveness  all  faces  are  turned  upwards  to  feel  the  rain 
of  the  divine  love.  There  is  a  sudden  inrush  of  reality, 
undreamed  of  before;  but  now  we  know  that  all  the 
trifling  has  led  up  to  it.  It  is  not  merely  these  people, 
but  all  mankind  seen  in  a  new  way,  made  divine  out  of 
their  very  absurdity  and  part  of  a  divine  universe,  and 
it  is  their  recognition  of  their  absurdity  that  makes 
them  divine  and  turns  our  happy  laughter  to  happy 
tears.  Their  confession  of  weakness  lifts  them  to  this 
heaven,  more  real  than  any  heaven  could  be  without  a 
past  of  folly  and  error;  and  then  we  know  that  nothing 
in  the  world  is  so  beautiful  as  weakness  made  strong 
through  confession  of  itself,  as  sin  turned  into  holiness 
because  it  knows  itself  to  be  sin,  as  the  ridiculous  step- 
ping into  the  sublime  through  self-ridicule.  And  that 
this  is  reality,  this  is  truth,  Mozart  convinces  us,  by 
making  it  happen  with  the  surprise  and  the  convincing 
power  of  life  itself. 

But  for  all  spiritual  experience,  whether  of  art  or 
of  life,  we  need  a  self-surrender,  a  willing  removal  of 
obstructions  in  our  own  minds,  a  sacrifice  of  the  ob- 


VIII  SPIRITUAL  EXPERIENCE  301 

vious,  of  what  is  called  common  sense.  We  must  for- 
get what  the  ego  habitually  says  to  us,  so  that  we  may 
hear  something  else  speak;  we  need  to  deny  ourselves 
and  follow.  For  spiritual  experience  is  always  sur- 
prising; it  is  not  what  our  other  kind  of  experience 
leads  us  to  expect.  Just  as  the  man  of  sclerrce  must 
give  up  his  theories  before  facts,  so  we  must  rid  our- 
selves of  all  the  inhibitions  of  habit  that  seems  to  us 
wisdom,  when  spiritual  experience  offers  itself  to  us. 
Just  because  it  is  spiritual,  it  Is  always  utterly  new,  and 
tells  us  that  we  have  been  fools.  That  we  must  con- 
fess If  we  are  to  receive  It,  and  confess  with  joy. 
There  is  an  Irony  In  all  sudden  revelation  of  truth,  a 
reductio  ad  ahsurdum  of  the  whole  of  worldly  wisdom, 
a  revolutionary  overthrow  of  all  our  traditions  and 
precedents,  that  we  must  consent  to  If  It  Is  to  be  a 
revelation  to  us.  That  is  why  beauty  Is  terrible  as  an 
army  with  banners  —  it  Is  terrible  to  the  old  self  — 
and  why  any  lovely  action  humiliates  us  when  we  see 
its  loveliness.  It  is  not  what  we  should  have  done, 
and  yet  It  Is  utterly  right.  But  how  do  we  know  that 
it  is  utterly  right?  Not  by  calculating  Its  results,  but 
because  we  experience  It;  and  we  cannot  experience  it 
unless  we  are  prepared  to  be  proved  wrong  by  It.  We 
must  have  the  habit  of  scepticism  about  all  the  posses- 
sions of  our  own  minds  if  we  are  to  let  truth  happen 
to  us;  we  must  utterly  rid  ourselves  of  the  desire  to 
be  proved  right. 

But  the  donkey  In  us  hinders  us  from  doing  this,  and 
at  the  last  moment  we  are  cut  off  from  spiritual  ex- 
perience by  that  self-assertion  which  Is  fear  of  the  un- 
known splendour.  We  are  not  the  souls  In  Shelley's 
poem  who  walk  upon  the  winds  with  lightness;  we  re- 
serve judgement  and  beg  leave  to  differ.  "  That  Is  not 
my  idea  of  a  horse,"  people  say  when  they  look  at 
TIntoret's  "  Crucifixion,"  forgetting  that  it  is  his  idea 
of  a  horse.  If  they  meet  a  St.  Francis  they  say, 
"  That  Is  not  my  idea  of  seemly  conduct."     Of  Mozart 


302  THE  SPIRIT  viii 

they  complain  that  he  is  too  tuny;  of  Christ  Himself 
that  He  has  a  devil.  And  the  reason  always  is,  either 
that  they  do  not  believe  at  all  in  a  Kingdom  of  Heaven, 
or  that  they  think,  they  know  already  just  what  it  is. 
So  they  do  not  recognise  the  true  Kingdom  of  Heaven, 
the  reality  compared  with  which  they  themselves  are 
unreal.  But  if  we  are  to  see  it  we  must  be  ready  to 
recognise  it  in  any  form  or  shape  and  in  the  most  un- 
likely people.  Think  how  unlikely  Christ  was  to  a 
learned  Pharisee.  We  must  never  say:  Can  any 
good  thing  come  out  of  Germany,  or  the  Royal 
Academy,  or  the  middle  classes,  or  any  body  or  any 
thing  that  we  happen  to  dislike?  It  is  not  our  achieve- 
ments or  wisdom  that  matter,  but  the  Kingdom  of 
Heaven;  and  we  matter  only  so  far  as  we  are  aware 
of  it.  To  know  that  is  to  be  humble,  but  not  with  the 
'umbleness  of  Uriah  Heep.  The  great  men  possessed 
by  spiritual  experience  are  not  humble  to  those  who 
deny  it;  they  thunder,  knowing  that  it  is  not  their  own 
thunder.  They  let  the  power  of  God  play  through 
them,  and  they  are-  angry  with  those  who  deny  it,  be- 
cause it  is  not  theirs,  but  God's.  They  could  not  be  so 
sure  but  for  their  humility. 

There  is  a  joy  in  this  humility  like  the  joy  in  a  lover's 
submission,  and  a  pride  like  a  soldier's  pride  in  dis- 
cipline. But  there  is  no  rivalry  with  any  other  regi- 
ment, no  other  army  that  we  wish  to  overcome.  We 
are  filled  with  esprit  de  corps,  but  the  corps  is  the  uni- 
verse itself;  and  to  be  of  the  universe  and  proud  of  it, 
to  surrender  your  identity  to  it,  and  then  to  have  it 
given  back  a  thousand  times  enriched,  that  is  a  happi- 
ness compared  with  which  all  other  is  counterfeit.  To 
know  yourself  nothing,  and  then  to  find  yourself 
charged  with  all  the  power  of  that  to  which  you  have 
yielded,  that  is  the  highest  power  man  can  attain  to. 
It  comes,  not  with  the  will  to  power,  but  with  the 
sudden,  irresistible  confession  of  weakness  forced 
from  us  not  against  our  will,  but  with  it.      For  this 


VIII  SPIRITUAL  EXPERIENCE  303 

confession  is  made  not  merely  for  the  self,  but  for  all 
mankind.  It  confesses  that  we  are  all  absurd  infuriat- 
ing creatures,  and  laughs  in  the  very  confession,  and  it 
can  hear  Heaven  laughing  with  it  as  well  as  at  it. 
And  then  it  knows  that,  absurd  and  infuriating  as  we 
are,  we  rise  above  the  angels  in  our  confession  and  for- 
giveness of  each  other.  They  could  not  reach  that 
subtle  joy  of  tears  and  laughter;  those  who  have  never 
borne  the  burden  of  their  own  follies  cannot  know  what 
it  is  to  let  it  slip  from  their  shoulders.  At  the  height 
of  spiritual  experience  we  are  like  the  bandit  who  was 
imprisoned  for  years  in  a  loathsome  dungeon,  until 
one  day  it  occurred  to  him  to  open  the  door  and  walk 
out. 

And  at  the  height  of  it  we  have  a  certainty,  if  only 
in  a  glimpse,  of  the  design  of  God.  We  know  that 
sorrow  has  led  to  its  own  joy,  folly  to  its  own  wisdom, 
sin  even  to  its  own  holiness.  Voltaire  jibed  at  Leib- 
nitz's doctrine  that  this  is  the  best  of  all  possible 
worlds;  but  at  the  height  of  spiritual  experience  we 
know  what  he  meant,  or  ought  to  have  meant.  Reality 
is  the  only  reality;  our  substitutes  for  it  are  figments 
of  our  minds,  and  not  one  of  them  could  possibly  be  so 
good  as  what  is.  But  this  we  know  only  when  we  see 
what  is  in  spiritual  experience,  when  we  see  it,  not  as  a 
series  of  events,  one  pleasant  and  another  painful,  but 
rather  as  a  piece  of  music  in  which  all  the  notes  have 
their  place,  both  consecutive  and  simultaneous.  One 
leads  up  to  another  and  could  not  be  what  it  is  if  it 
were  not  so  leading  up.  And  the  self  at  one  moment 
leads  up  to  the  self  at  another;  and  the  whole  universe 
at  one  moment  leads  up  to  the  whole  universe  at  an- 
other; and  there  is  a  oneness  in  both  only  seen  at  the 
height  of  spiritual  experience.  Then  we  rid  ourselves 
even  of  the  sense  of  waste,  which  at  other  times  always 
intimidates  and  baffles  us. 

So  there  is  nothing  but  spiritual  experience  that  can 
give  us  belief,  the  full  belief  on  which  men  act;  and 


304  THE  SPIRIT  viii 

all  that  scepticism  which  is  deep  enough  to  hinder  or 
pervert  action  comes  of  the  lack  of  spiritual  experience, 
or  the  refusal  to  ackno\vledp;e  its  supreme  authority 
and  value.  No  man  is  utterly  without  it;  and  our 
nightmare  theories  of  the  meaninglessness  of  all  things 
come,  not  from  the  complete  lack  of  it,  but  from  think- 
ing of  ourselves  as  we  are  with  all  the  spiritual  experi- 
ence of  the  past,  hut  with  all  that  experience  proved 
to  be  false;  as  if  we  had  become  what  we  are,  soulless 
with  the  passion  of  immortal  souls,  through  facts  that 
are  not.  It  is  the  bewilderment  that  has  fallen  away 
from  spiritual  experience  and  denied  it,  which  turns 
the  brain  sick  and  makes  men  rush  into  blasphemy  and 
savagery  for  relief.  But  all  this  is  merely  pathologi- 
cal, like  those  states  of  mind  in  which  our  identity  seems 
to  be  divided  and  we  are  unreal  to  ourselves,  since 
there  is  no  self  to  be  real  to.  Thinking  about  such  a 
state  is  no  cure  for  it;  you  must  think  about  something 
else,  and  then  it  passes.  So  the  only  cure  for  night- 
mares of  scepticism  is  spiritual  experience.  Seeing  is 
believing;  and  only  spiritual  seeing  can  make  us  believe 
in  spirit  and  its  supremacy.  A  lover  overwrought  may, 
by  thinking  too  much  about  love,  persuade  himself  that 
he  does  not  love,  or  even  that  there  is  no  such  thing  as 
love.  But  when  he  sees  the  woman  he  loves,  he  knows 
that  his  thinking  was  all  at  the  mercy  of  his  nerves. 

Yet  the  belief  that  comes  with  spiritual  experience 
can  be  maintained  only  if  it  is  acted  upon.  If  we  "  see 
God,"  we  must  do  what  we  have  seen,  otherwise 
spiritual  experience  itself  turns  to  bitterness.  And 
that,  I  think,  is  the  real  reason  why  men  have  feared 
the  fairy  angel  so  much  and  seen  in  her  la  belle  dame 
sans  merci.  Either  they  have  not  connected  the  ex- 
perience of  beauty  with  their  own  actions,  or  they  have 
made  a  false  or  base  connection.  They  have  seen  a 
wild,  distant,  unattainable  beauty  in  nature  that  allured 
them  but  to  no  end;  they  have  heard  a  voice  that  led 
them  nowhere.     On  that  beauty,  seen  so,  they  could  not 


VIII  SPIRITUAL  EXPERIENCE  305 

satisfy  their  desires.  But  the  doctrine  of  Christ,  and 
of  all  the  great  visionaries,  is  that  we  can  attain  to  the 
same  beauty  in  ourselves,  in  our  feelings,  thoughts,  and 
actions;  we  can  be  at  one,  not  with  nature  in  the 
scientist's  sense,  but  with  that  personal  in  it  which  we 
see  in  spiritual  experience.  We  can  become  like  the 
lilies  of  the  field  as  Christ  saw  them;  and,  when  we 
do,  they  will  not  be  to  us  flowers  in  the  hair  of  the 
fairy  angel,  but,  like  ourselves,  creatures  and  children 
of  God. 


IX 

SPIRIT  AND  MATTER 

BY 

A.  CLUTTON-BROCK 


ANALYSIS 

The  Universal  and  the  Particular. 

What  sense  tells  us. 

The  knowledge  we  acquire  not  with  the  senses. 

Truth,  beauty,  and  righteousness. 

Is  there  only  matter,  or  only  spirit? 

Either  alone  does  not  express  our  full  experience. 

The  particular  and  universal  imply  each  other. 

But  we  are  always  thinking  of  them  apart. 

The  Real  and  the  Useful. 

Illusions  produced  by  the  relation  of  use. 

The  origin  of  language. 

We  are  aware  of  the  universal  when  we  escape  from  the  relation 

of  use. 
The  sense  of  beauty  the  earliest  sense  of  the  universal. 
Without  it  both  thought  and  conduct  are  misled. 
The  idea  of  causation  arises  in  the  relation  of  use. 
So  we  are  misled  by  it. 
The  conflict  in  our  conceptions  of  reality. 
We  seldom  rise  to  a  full  experience  of  reality. 
In  the  relation  of  use  the  universe  is  to  us  nonsense. 
The  natural  sciences  do  not  by  themselves  make  sense  of  it. 

The  Meaning  of  Evolution. 

The  evolution  of  full  perception. 

Functional  and  expressive  beauty. 

An  analogy  with  virtue. 

Is  there  truth  in  the  myths  of  the  savage? 

The  error  of  the  modern  theory  of  universal  becoming. 

The  true  doctrine  of  evolution. 

What  is  Nature? 

The  effort  of  life  to  master  matter. 

The  real  hope  of  evolution. 

The  escape  from  the  relation  of  use  to  God. 


IX 

SPIRIT  AND  MATTER 

The  Universal  and  the  Particular 

Spirit  is  a  name  given  to  something  the  very  existence 
of  which  is  often  denied;  and  those  who  believe  in  its 
existence  often  give  an  incredible  account  of  it.  It  is 
my  object  to  give  an  account  of  it  not  incredible  and 
based  on  the  common  experience  of  mankind. 

We  are  aware  of  matter  with  our  senses;  and,  if  we 
are  aware  of  spirit  at  all,  it  is  not  with  our  senses. 
The  first  question  is,  then,  Are  we  aware  of  anything 
not  with  our  senses?  Of  ourselves,  perhaps;  but  those 
who  believe  that  matter  is  the  sole  reality  must  believe 
also  that  self-consciousness  is  an  illusion.  For  them 
there  is  no  self  but  merely  matter  in  certain  formal 
arrangements  functioning,  as  they  say;  and  self-con- 
sciousness is  but  an  effect  of  that  functioning.  They 
insist  that  we  have  no  knowledge  of  anything  except 
with  our  senses,  and  that  this  knowledge  is  all  knowl- 
edge by  matter  of  matter. 

Yet  all  the  senses  in  combination  applied  to  some 
one  particular  object  could  not  produce  any  conclusion 
about  that  object,  could  not  even  tell  us  that  it  was  an 
object.  Smell  by  itself  does  not  tell  me  that  what  t 
smell  is  also  that  which  I  touch  and  see;  nor  do  simul- 
taneous smell,  sight,  and  touch  tell  me  that.  A  crea- 
ture with  only  sense-perceptions  could  not  go  beyond 
them;  there  would  be  nothing  in  it  to  conclude  that  it 
was  smelling,  touching,  and  seeing  the  same  object. 
It  would  in  fact  consist  only  of  sensc-'icrccptions  and 
would  have  no  notion  of  external  reality  at  all;  and 
it  may  be  that  there  are  creatures  which  do  consist  only 
of  sense-perceptions  and  have  no  notion  of  external 

309 


310  THK  SPIRIT  ix 

reality.  But  man  is  not  one  of  them;  he  is  aware  of 
an  object  over  antl  above  his  sense-perceptions  of  it; 
and  he  calls  that  which  is  aware  the  self. 

But  still  the  question  remains  whether  this  self  can 
be  aware  of  anything  but  matter.  Assuming,  as  we 
must,  that  the  self  is  not  merely  a  combination  of  sense- 
perceptions,  is  it  still  only  matter,  by  some  means  which 
we  cannot  vet  umlerstand,  aware  of  the  existence  of 
other  matter?  Now  the  man  who  believes  this  be- 
lieves also  something  more,  namely,  that  it  is  the  truth 
about  matter.  For  him,  therefore,  besides  matter 
there  exists  the  truth  about  matter,  which  itself  clearly 
is  not  matter  and  is  not  perceived  with  the  senses.  He 
may  say  that  the  truth  about  matter  is  a  product  of 
that  matter  which  is  his  own  mind,  and  exists  only  in 
his  mind.  But,  if  the  truth  is  that  and  merely  that,  it 
Is  not  the  truth  to  him,  and  he  cannot  believe  it.  Truth 
means  to  us,  not  a  product  of  our  minds,  but  that 
which  exists  independently  of  them,  that  which  would 
exist  If  we  were  not.  The  very  word  truth  implies  Its 
independent  existence;  the  value  for  truth,  to  which 
we  all  appeal  when  we  use  the  word,  implies  its  Inde- 
pendent existence.  If  we  could  believe  that  we  made 
truth  ourselves,  we  should  no  longer  value  It,  and  it 
would  not  be  truth  to  us.  When  we  speak  of  a  bitter 
truth,  an  unwelcome  truth,  we  Imply  that  it  exists  inde- 
pendently of  us  and  compels  our  recognition  of  Its 
existence.  If  it  did  not,  why  should  we  not  make  for 
ourselves  truths  only  comforting  to  ourselves?  The 
answer  is  that  we  could  not  believe  them.  Belief  im- 
plies that  what  we  believe  In  exists  independently  of 
our  minds.  So  the  truth  about  external  reality  exists 
independently  of  our  minds;  it  is  not  matter,  though  it 
be  about  matter,  nor  is  it  perceived  with  our  senses. 

Since  metaphysics  are  concerned  with  the  nature  of 
ultimate  reality,  it  is  Impossible  to  prove  any  meta- 
physical statement.  The  aim  of  metaphysics  Is  not  to 
prove  any  such  statement,  but  to  discover  what  other 


IX  SPIRIT  AND  MATTER  311 

beliefs  are  implied  in  any  metaphysical  belief.  If  a 
man  holds  a  certain  metaphysical  belief,  you  cannot 
prove  to  him  that  it  Is  false.  But  you  may  be  able  to 
prove  to  him  that  other  beliefs  of  his  are  inconsistent 
with  it,  so  that  he  will  have  to  renounce  either  those 
other  beliefs  or  the  metaphysical  belief.  So,  to  one 
who  says  that  he  believes  only  in  the  existence  of 
matter,  one  may  put  it  that  that  belief  is  inconsistent 
with  his  other  belief  that  he  has  attained  to  the  truth 
about  matter,  Is  indeed  inconsistent  with  belief  of  any 
kind,  and  so  even  with  itself.  For  if  only  matter 
exists,  the  truth  about  matter  does  not  exist  for  us; 
it  is  merely  an  effect  produced  by  matter  upon  matter; 
belief  is  an  effect  produced  by  matter  upon  matter. 
But  he  who  believes  that  cannot  believe  anything  else, 
or  even  that. 

Turn  now  from  truth  to  something  which  can  be 
much  more  easily  confused  with  matter;  something 
which  most  people  suppose  they  perceive  with  their 
senses,  namely  beauty.  To  us  the  truth  about  objects 
is  not  the  objects  themselves;  but  we  may  suppose  that 
the  beauty  of  an  object  is  the  object  Itself,  and  that  we 
perceive  it  with  our  sense  of  slfrht  or  hearing.  The 
beauty  of  a  tune  is  the  tune;  and  we  hear  that  beauty. 
Yet  It  is  possible  to  hear  the  notes  without  hearing  the 
tune  and  so  the  beauty.  The  beauty  of  the  tune  does 
not  consist  merely  of  the  pleasant  sound  of  the  in- 
dividual notes.  Play  the  same  notes  in  another  order 
and  there  is  no  tune  and  no  beauty  of  the  tune.  The 
tune  Is  something  we  cannot  perceive  without  the  sense 
of  hearing;  but  that  which  perceives  it,  and  the  beauty 
of  it,  is  not  the  sense  of  hearing.  And,  though  the 
notes  are  themselves  merely  sounds  and  material,  the 
tune  Is  not  material;  it  is  something  beyond  matter  and 
informing  It.  It  is  that  relation  of  material  things 
which  we  rail  beauty,  and  which,  though  it  consists  of 
material  things,  is  itself  not  matter  nor  perceived  with 
the  senses. 


312  THE  SPIRIT  IX 

And  the  perception  of  truth  and  beauty  is  a  percep- 
tion of  —  what?  not  particular  objects  perceived  with 
the  senses,  but  universal  relations  not  perceived  with 
the  senses,   although  we  can  be   aware   of  them   only 
through  the  medium  of  the  senses.      And  spirit  is  the 
name  given  to  that  in  us  which  is  aware  of  these  uni- 
versals;    and    they    themselves,    since    they    are    not 
matter,    though    always    perceived    in    or    to    matter, 
are    said    to    be    spiritual.     The    word    spirit    is    an 
acknowledgment  of  their  existence,  and  of  the  existence 
of  something  in  ourselves,  not  sense,  which  perceives 
and  values  them.     And  there  is  another  universal,  an- 
other relation,  in  our  own  actions,  which  is  spiritual 
and  perceived  by  spirit,  not  by  sense  —  that  relation 
which   is  called   righteousness.     We   are   aware   of   it 
only  in  men  and  in  their  conduct;  yet  it  also  is  to  us  a 
universal  relation  like  truth  and  beauty.      It  does  not 
consist  merely  in  particular  actions  or  speech  as  we  per- 
ceive these  in  others,  nor  in  particular  thoughts  of  our 
own  as  we  are  aware  of  them.      It  consists  in  the  rela- 
tion   of    action,    speech,    or    thought    to   circumstance. 
Righteousness,  in  fact,  is  a  certain  arrangement  of  ac- 
tions or  speech  or  thoughts,  like  the  arrangement  of 
notes  which  makes  a  tune;  and  we  are  aware  of  the 
righteousness  as  a  universal  relation,  over  and  above 
the  action,  speech,  or  thought,   though  we  cannot  be 
aware    of    it    apart    from    these.     So    we    say    that 
righteousness  also  is  spiritual,  and  that  spirit  is  aware 
of  it.     There  is  this  difference  between  it  and  beauty 
or  truth,  that  it  is  a  universal  we  are  aware  of  only  in 
human  beings,  and  perhaps  sometimes  in  animals.     We 
are  not  aware  of  it  in  mere  phenomena  or  in  Inanimate 
objects.      But  of  this  difference  I  will  speak  later.      So 
there  seem  to  us  to  be  two  kinds  of  reality,  a  reality  of 
matter,  of  particulars,  perceived  by  the  senses;  and  a 
reality  of  spirit,  of  universals,  perceived  through  the 
senses  but  by  spirit.      But  the  mind  of  man  refuses  to 
believe  in  two  kinds  of  reality;  the  very  phrase  is  a 


IX  SPIRIT  AND  iMATTER  313 

contradiction  of  Itself;  for  reality  means  that  In  terms 
of  which  all  else  can  be  explained,  and  there  cannot  be 
two  kinds  of  reality  each  unable  to  explain  the  other. 
If  there  are,  neither  Is  to  us  quite  real;  and  we  look 
for  a  further  reality  behind  them,  in  terms  of  which 
both  can  be  explained  away.  In  despair  of  that  fur- 
ther reality,  some  have  said  that  there  Is  no  matter  but 
only  spirit;  and  others  that  there  Is  no  spirit  but  only 
matter;  and,  ever  since  men  began  to  think  at  all,  a 
pretty  quarrel  has  raged  between  them,  particularly 
over  man  himself.  He  is  all  spirit  or  all  flesh;  but  to 
himself,  when  he  does  not  think  too  hard  about  him- 
self, he  remains  both.  To  convince  him  that  he  Is  all 
one  or  the  other  makes  him  uncomfortable;  makes  him 
feel  that  the  universe.  Including  himself.  Is  fraudulent. 
It  Is  clearly  fraudulent  If  he  Is  all  matter;  If  life,  con- 
sciousness, anything  else  you  please,  is,  as  they  say,  only 
a  function  of  matter.  For  then  the  self,  the  very  heart 
of  reality  to  all  of  us,  does  not  exist.  On  the  other 
hand.  If  there  Is  no  matter  but  only  spirit,  why  is  this 
spirit  so  urgently  aware  of  matter,  so  much  in  pleasure 
or  pain  over  It?  Why  can  I  do  nothing,  perceive  noth- 
ing, value  nothing,  without  It?  I  am  living  in  a  uni- 
verse of  phantoms,  and  the  very  agonies  of  Christ  on 
the  Cross  were  unreal.  In  fact  the  docetic  heresy  is 
true,  not  only  of  him,  but  of  all  men  and  things.  Let 
us  then  cut  our  throats  so  that  we  may  rush  out  of  this 
phantasmagoria  the  nearest  way.  Those  who  affirm 
the  existence  of  spirit  alone  are  Insensibly  led  to  think  7^ 
of  it  as  a  kind  of  Invisible  matter.  It  Is  to  them  spirit 
pretending  to  be  matter  and  imitating  it  to  the  Hie, 
imitating  it  so  that  it  deceives  even  the  pure  spirit 
which  is  ourselves.  Spirit,  to  begin  with,  means  to  us 
that  which  Is  not  matter,  It  does  not  mean  spirit  pre- 
tending to  be  matter;  and  our  own  perception  of  spirit 
is  to  us  the  perception  of  something  beyond  matter, 
though  manifested  in  or  through  it.  We  cannot  be 
content  if  we  arc  told  that  we  do  not  perceive  matter 


314  THE  SPIRIT  IX 

at  all  but  only  spirit  pretending  to  be  it.  We  might  as 
well  believe  at  once  that  spirit  is  all  matter,  if  matter 
is  all  spirit.  In  either  case  an  incessant  trick  is  played 
on  us  by  reality;  and  reality  itself  is  not  to  be  trusted. 

As  for  those  who  affirm  the  existence  of  matter 
alone,  they  are  led  insensibly  to  think  of  it  as  a  kind 
of  visible  spirit.  They  cry  that  this  matter  is  more 
than  we  ever  dreamed  of,  is  in  fact  the  best  possible 
substitute  for  that  spirit  which  does  not  exist.  We, 
for  instance,  are  all  matter;  and  what  fine  creatures 
we  are.  It  is  a  mistake  to  think  of  us  as  mere  flesh. 
We  are  electrons  or  ions  or  what  not,  all  incessantly 
whirling  about;  and  this  whirling  is  itself  far  more 
glorious  than  any  spirit  could  be,  if  there  were  such  a 
thing.  Let  us  sing  our  hymns  no  longer  to  a  God  who 
doesn't  exist,  but  to  the  eternal  whirl  of  which  we  also 
are  a  part.  It  must  be  good  in  itself  if  it  can  whirl 
into  us;  and,  if  it  whirls  out  again,  what  does  that 
matter?  We  fade  into  the  infinite  azure  of  the  past; 
but  the  whirling  goes  on  for  ever,  and  the  result  of  it 
is  —  just  everything.  Why  therefore  should  we  sulk? 
Let  us  join  the  dance  mentally  as  we  do  materially. 
The  very  mental  refusal  to  do  so  is  itself  all  part  of 
the  whirl.  It  is  electrons  at  their  highest  state  of 
eternally  voluptuous  excitement  —  a  beautiful  thought. 

No!  we  shall  not  be  satisfied  if  we  are  told  that 
reality  is  all  spirit  or  all  matter.  Either  way,  half  the 
content  of  reality  is  left  out  so  as  to  make  the  rest 
easier  to  think  about.  But  we  may  see  the  way  towards 
a  solution,  through  an  analogy  from  art.  In  art  there 
seems  to  be  the  same  difficulty  about  the  universal  and 
the  particular.  In  art,  we  are  told,  there  are  always 
two  things  to  be  aimed  at  —  unity  of  purpose  or  design, 
and  richness  of  content;  and,  so  long  as  we  merely 
think  about  these,  it  seems  that  one  is  to  be  obtained 
only  at  the  expense  of  the  other.  But  if  an  artist  tries 
to  get  one  at  the  expense  of  the  other,  he  is  sure  to  fail 
in  his  art.     Design  without  content  is  not  design  at 


IX  SPIRIT  AND  MATTER  315 

all;  and  content  without  design  Is  not  content.  It  Is 
only  the  presence  of  each  that  makes  the  other  what  It 
is;  and  the  great  artist  attains  to  both,  not  by  aiming 
at  one  at  the  expense  of  the  other,  but  by  aiming  at 
both  with  equal  Intensity.  The  greater  the  work  of 
art  the  more  there  Is  of  both  In  It.  It  Is  the  passion 
for  both  that  actually  produces  a  fusion  of  them,  in 
which  they  become  one.  And  we  think  of  them  as 
two,  only  for  purposes  of  thought.  Success  in  art  is 
the  sameness  of  them;  It  is  only  because  we  are  so  used 
to  failure  that  they  seem  to  us  different. 

So,  we  may  conjecture,  it  is  with  reality.  It  seems 
to  us  to  consist  of  matter  and  spirit,  and  we  seem  to 
ourselves  to  be  matter  and  spirit,  because  we  so  seldom 
attain  to  any  fulness  of  perception  of  It.  For  the  most 
part  we  are  aware  only  of  particulars,  which  we  call 
matter;  and  the  whole  of  us  is  not  aware  of  them. 
The  senses  are  aware  of  different  aspects  of  them,  and 
the  self  combines  those  sense-impressions  into  a  percep- 
tion of  Independent  material  reality.  Then  sometimes 
we  attain  also  to  a  perception  of  the  universal  in  these 
particulars;  but  often,  when  we  are  aware  of  it,  we 
forget  the  particulars;  we  think  away  from  them  to 
the  relation  In  which  we  have  perceived  them;  we  pass 
out  of  the  Immediate  warm  perception  of  the  whole 
reality,  universal  and  particular,  matter  and  spirit,  to 
a  purely  Intellectual  concern  with  the  universal,  which 
perhaps  seems  to  us  then  to  be  the  whole  reality,  or  at 
least  the  higher,  more  significant,  reality.  But  the 
moment  we  separate  it  from  the  particular,  we  are 
losing  our  perception  of  It;  it  becomes  to  us  far  off 
and  faint  and  abstract,  like  a  picture  in  which  the  artist 
has  aimed  at  unity  of  purpose  without  richness  of  con- 
tent. When  we  are  aware  of  both  with  equal  Inten- 
sity they  become  one  to  us.  Beauty  is  the  beautiful 
thing;  Truth  Is  objects  or  phenomena  behaving  in  a 
certain  way.  There  is  in  all  truth  and  all  beauty  a 
character,  an  Identity,  a  precision,  which  they  get  only 


3i6  THE  SPIRIT 


IX 


from  the  particulars  that  are  related  In  them.  So  this 
fulness  of  perception  Is  always  a  matter  of  degree  for 
us,  and  always  we  fall  short  of  completeness.  That 
Is  why  we  make  our  division  of  spirit  and  matter,  a 
division  not  In  reality  Itself,  but  only  In  our  frag- 
mentary perception  of  It. 

The  Real  and  the  Useful 

Our  difficulty  Is  increased  by  the  fact  that  we  have 
a  past  of  ages  In  which  we  have  conceived  of  things  in 
a  relation  of  use  to  ourselves.  Sense-perception  indeed 
does  incite  us  Instantly  to  sense-value.  It  is  actually 
a  means  of  knowing  what  gives  us  pleasure  or  pain, 
what  helps  us  to  live  or  hinders  us  from  living.  To 
most  animals  perhaps  the  vision  of  an  object  has  no 
meaning  beyond  that  of  use.  It  suggests  merely  security 
or  danger,  pleasure  or  pain;  and  that  Is  not  concerned 
with  the  object  as  an  Independent  reality.  But  man 
has  gradually  acquired  a  sense  of  the  Independent 
reality  of  objects  and  has  been  able  to  contemplate 
them  apart  from  their  use  for  him.  We  have  language 
itself  because  we  have  this  power  of  disinterested  con- 
templation. It  has  been  said  that  animals  have  lan- 
guage, since  they  can  make  sounds  expressing  their 
desire  for  things.  But  that  is  not  language,  for  it 
expresses  only  the  desire  for  a  thing,  never  the  thing 
itself.  A  cat  can  mew  for  cat's-meat,  as  Samuel  Butler 
has  said,  when  he  hears  the  cat's-meat  man;  but  he 
cannot  say  cat's-meat;  he  can  only  say,  I  want  cat's- 
meat,  or  rather  only,  I  want.  He  can  make  the  sound 
of  desire;  he  cannot  make  sounds  purified  of  his  desire, 
as  he  cannot  think  of  things  apart  from  his  desire;  and 
his  desire,  sounding  In  all  his  noises,  prevents  that 
delicate  differentiation  of  sound  which  is  possible  to 
man  because  he  can  think  and  speak  of  a  thing  apart 
from  his  own  desire  for  It.  That  Is  how  man  has  the 
power  of  making  nouns.  The  animal,  unable  to  think 
of  things  apart  from  his  own  use  of  them,  never  attains 


IX  SPIRIT  AND  MATTER  317 

to  nouns  at  all  and  has  no  true  language.  So  there  is 
latent  In  the  first  human  speech,  the  artist,  the  philoso- 
pher, the  saint;  and  it  is  by  means  of  this  very  speech, 
and  the  power  of  detachment  which  it  implies,  that  man 
has  progressed,  even  in  matters  of  use,  so  far  beyond 
other  creatures. 

And  yet  man  is  always  being  pulled  back  into  think- 
ing in  terms  of  the  relation  of  use.  He  can  never 
escape  from  it  utterly,  as  he  can  never  escape  from  the 
struggle  for  life.  It  is  a  condition  of  his  being.  I>ike 
other  animals,  he  cannot  help  seeing  objects  in  a  rela- 
tion of  use  to  himself;  but  while  he  sees  them  so  he 
cannot  be  aware  of  their  full  reality.  For  they  do  not 
exist  so  that  they  may  be  of  use  to  us;  the  use  is  our 
way  of  looking  at  them;  it  is  what  the  senses  suggest 
to  us.  But  this  always  gives  us  merely  the  particular; 
and  so  long  as  we  see  things  only  or  mainly  in  a  rela- 
tion of  use  to  ourselves,  we  are  not  fully  aware  of  the 
universal  in  them  which  is  a  part  of  their  reality. 

But  in  so  far  as  we  can  and  do  escape  from  the  rela- 
tion of  use  —  and  there  is  a  constant  effort  of  the  spirit 
to  escape  from  it  —  we  pass  beyond  mere  sense-percep- 
tion and  sense-values  to  a  perception  and  value  of  the 
universal.  Our  escape  is  positive,  not  negative;  for  we 
cannot  rise  from  the  relation  of  use  to  no  relation  at 
all,  from  one  kind  of  perception  and  value  Into  no  per- 
ception and  value.  Beyond  the  relation  of  use  we 
instantly  become  aware  of  another  relation,  which,  as 
soon  as  we  arc  aware  of  it,  we  value  above  the  relation 
of  use.  And  in  this  new  relation  the  object  of  per- 
ception becomes  more,  not  less,  real  to  us,  because  it  is 
related  not  merely  to  us  through  our  use  for  it,  but  to 
the  sum  total  of  things.  Its  identity  is  not  lost  but 
heightened  in  that  new  relation,  as  the  identity  of  notes 
is  hcightcnctl  when  they  are  to  us  part  of  a  tunc.  Be- 
cause it  is  part  of  a  whole  it  is  also  far  more  itself  than 
it  was  when  it  was  merely  an  item  to  be  made  use  of. 
Thus  to  a  greedy  boy  a  plum  is  merely  something  good 


3iS  Tin-:  SPIRIT  IX 

to  eat,  it  is  a  member  of  the  genus  plum  which,  he 
knows,  is  good  to  eat,  and  is  distinguished  from  other 
members  of  the  genus  only  by  looking  more  or  less 
good  to  eat  than  thev  do.  That  is  the  one  point  of 
distinction  he  notices  in  it,  because  he  sees  it  only  in 
relation  to  his  own  appetite.  But  an  artist  sees  a  plum 
in  another  relation,  the  relation  of  beauty;  and  because 
he  sees  it  in  that  relation  it  is  not  to  him  a  member  of 
the  genus  plum  which  is  good  to  eat,  but  is  itself  with 
all  its  particular  character  and  beauty.  It  is  one  note 
in  the  music  of  beauty  that  he  perceives,  and  it  could 
not  be  any  other  note.  So  he  tries  to  paint  its  particular 
character  and  beauty  at  one  particular  moment  and 
in  certain  particular  circumstances.  Yet  the  beauty  of 
which  it  is  a  part  is  also  universal;  it  is  something  that 
he  and  not  merely  his  eye  perceives;  and  his  eye  per- 
ceives more  of  the  plum  because  he  himself  perceives 
the  beauty  of  the  plum.  The  very  senses  tell  us  little 
in  mere  sense-perception.  It  is  only  when  they  are  en- 
forced by  spiritual  perception  that  they  tell  us  much. 
It  is  only  when  we  see  things  In  some  relation  to  each 
other  and  not  to  ourselves  that  we  see  them  fully. 

Now  the  first  spiritual  perception,  in  order  of  time, 
is  the  perception  of  beauty.  It  is  not  higher  than  any 
other  spiritual  perception,  but  it  must  precede  the 
others  if  we  are  to  understand  the  connection  between 
spirit  and  sense,  and  so  between  spirit  and  matter. 
The  sense  of  beauty,  as  we  call  it  —  thus  insisting  upon 
the  close  relation  between  the  universal  beauty  and  its 
particulars  —  Is  necessary  to  us  if  we  are  to  grasp  the 
relation  between  other  universals  and  their  particulars. 
In  beauty  we  cannot  separate  the  universal  from  the 
particular,  spirit  from  sense,  or  spirit  from  matter. 
But  those  who  pass  on  to  the  other  universals,  to 
philosophy  or  morals,  without  an  intense  experience 
and  value  of  beautv,  are  always  apt  to  think  of  the 
universal  with  which  they  concern  themselves  as  utterly 
distinct  from,  or  even  as  opposed  to,   the  particular. 


IX  SPIRIT  AND  MATTER  319 

For  them  there  is  an  opposition  between  spirit  and 
sense,  and  so  between  spirit  and  matter.  They  pass 
from  the  actual  experience  of  the  universal  in  the  par- 
ticular to  mere  thinking  about  the  universal  or  to  mere 
acting  upon  it,  upon  what  they  call  principle;  and  so 
they  fall  into  error  about  the  relation  between  matter 
and  spirit,  about  the  very  nature  of  reality.  Hence 
that  Manichaean  heresy  which  constantly  infests  both 
thought  and  morals.  It  is,  in  all  its  different  forms 
and  degrees  of  intensity,  whether  it  be  intellectualism 
or  asceticism,  the  result  of  the  lack  of  actual  spiritual 
experience  in  its  simplest  and  most  immediate  form, 
the  experience  of  beauty.  But  we  are  much  more 
aware  of  it  in  its  effect  upon  morals  than  in  its  effect 
upon  thought. 

It  affects  thought  in  a  curious  and  unexpected  way. 
For  man,  knowing  that  he  has  the  power  of  being 
aware  of  objects  out  of  the  relation  of  use  to  himself, 
and  having  a  great  desire  to  be  so  aware  of  them,  is 
apt  to  suppose  that  he  can  be  so  aware  of  them  by 
means  of  the  pure  intellect,  that  he  can  at  any  moment 
switch  off  the  animal  in  himself  and  switch  on  the 
philosopher.  He  can  no  more  do  that  than  he  can 
switch  off  the  animal  and  switch  on  the  artist  or  the 
saint.  It  has  often  been  believed  by  philosophers  in 
the  past  that  man  is  more  capable  of  pure  contempla- 
tion than  of  any  other  spiritual  activity  in  its  purity. 
Their  glorification  of  the  reason  is  based  on  this  belief; 
and  the  result  of  that  glorification  has  been  an  immense 
discouragement,  since  the  pure  reason  by  itself  has  done 
for  us  far  less  than  was  expected  of  it.  It  has  not  dis- 
covered for  us  any  certain  truths  about  the  nature  of 
reality,  nor  has  it  preserved  us  from  obvious  errors  in 
conduct.  Mankind  is  imjiaticnt  of  philosophers  and 
of  what  seems  their  barren  intellectual  game,  just  be- 
cause of  their  glorificati(jn  of  that  reason  which  has 
done  so  little.  Their  error  has  been  to  trust  in  tlie 
reason  and  in  thinking  about  spiritual  experience,  with- 


320  THE  SriKlT  ix 

out  having  first  enriched  themselves  with  actual  spirit- 
ual experience  in  its  simplest  and  most  direct  form, 
that  is  to  say,  with  the  experience  of  beauty.  They 
have  been,  for  the  most  part,  mills  grinding  without 
any  corn  between  them;  they  have  trusted  in  the 
machinery  without  providing  it  with  material;  and  all 
the  while  it  is  not  machinery  at  all  but  a  living  part 
of  themselves,  subject  to  error  like  all  the  rest  of  them. 
Now  the  error  of  the  reason,  acting  without  enrich- 
ment, is  to  see  the  universal  as  altogether  separate 
from  the  particular,  and  so  to  doubt  the  existence  either 
of  the  particular  or  of  the  universal;  and  the  reason 
falls  into  this  error  because  it  believes  itself  to  be  pure 
and  yet  is,  like  all  the  rest  of  the  self,  continually  falling 
back  into  the  relation  of  use.  We  believe  what  we 
wish  to  believe,  as  we  see  what  we  wish  to  see  and  do 
what  we  wish  to  do;  and  the  errors  of  the  reason  are 
not  merely  individual  but  generic,  like  all  our  other 
errors.  The  doctrine  of  evolution,  so  much  misap- 
plied, might  warn  us  that  in  all  things  we  have  the 
habits  of  our  own  animal  past,  and  that  we  escape  from 
them  no  more  when  we  think  than  when  we  feel  or  act. 
In  fact,  we  need  now  to  apply  that  doctrine  not  only 
in  our  philosophy  but  to  it.  So  at  last  we  shall  make 
a  conduit-pipe  between  science  and  philosophy  by  means 
of  psychology,  a  psychology  based  on  our  awareness 
of  our  own  animal  past.  Kant  gave  us  a  Kritik  of  pure 
reason;  what  we  need  now  is  a  Kritik  of  impure  reason, 
based  on  the  knowledge  that  our  reason,  like  all  the 
rest  of  us,  is  infested  with  habits  acquired  in  the  rela- 
tion of  use.  That  Kritik  will  not  make  us  despair  of 
reason,  any  more  than  the  same  kind  of  Kritik  so  long 
applied  to  morals  has  made  us  despair  of  them.  Just 
as  our  righteousness  is  always  the  effort  to  be  right- 
eousness, so  our  reason  must  be  always  the  effort  to  be 
reason,  to  attain  to  a  power  of  pure  contemplation  it 
never  has  attained  to.  It  Is  not  a  machinery  that 
works  perfectly  when  we  can  separate  it  from  the  rest 


IX  SPIRIT  AND  MATTER  321 

of  ourselves;  it  Is  a  part  of  ourselves  that  we  must 
always  be  purifying,  and  we  cannot  purify  it  except 
through  actual  spiritual  experience,  which,  as  I  have 
said,  begins  with  the  sense  of  beauty.  In  that  we  are 
first  aware  of  the  universal;  and  we  see  it  indissolubly 
linked  with  the  particular. 

So,  if  we  are  to  believe  in  spirit  and  to  understand 
its  nature,  we  must  continue  in  our  intellectual  and 
moral  activities  still  to  see  the  universal  thus  indis- 
solubly linked  with  the  particular;  we  must  never  fall 
into  conceiving  of  them  as  separate  or  opposed.  The 
world  of  particulars,  as  perceived  by  the  senses,  is  not 
illusion,  nor  is  the  world  of  universals  as  conceived  by 
the  mind;  but  each  by  itself  is  imperfect  and  mislead- 
ing. The  one  is  the  notes  without  the  tune,  the  other 
the  tune  without  the  sounds;  the  one  is  chaos,  nonsense, 
the  other  a  mere  pattern.  Our  business  is  not  merely 
with  the  reason  but  with  all  the  faculties,  with  the 
whole  self,  to  be  aware  of  both  content  and  design,  for 
we  cannot  be  fully  aware  of  one  without  being  aware 
of  the  other. 

Unfortunately  it  is  possible  for  us  to  contemplate 
with  the  intelligence  a  world  which  still  we  conceive  of 
as  entirely  in  the  relation  of  use  to  ourselves,  and  with 
the  intelligence  to  take  our  conceptions  of  use  entirely 
seriously.  Where  this  happens  the  result  is  a  barren 
and  empty  universal  of  the  mere  Intelligence,  and  one 
that  in  its  barrenness  and  emptiness  appals  us.  We  are 
apt  to  believe,  for  instance,  that  our  notion  of  causa- 
tion Is  itself  a  product  of  the  pure  intelligence,  and  a 
modern  one.  We  argue  about  It  as  il  It  were  Itself 
necessarily,  mathematically  true;  but  with  all  our  argu- 
ing we  are  unable  to  state  it  even  In  a  form  satisfactory 
to  ourselves.  For  It  is  not  really  a  product  of  the  pure 
or  the  modern  intelligence,  but  a  tool  rather  of  the 
mind  and  one  fashioned  first  by  the  primitive  mind 
when  it  saw  the  whole  universe  in  a  relation  of  use  to 
itself.     A    savage    acquires    the    notion    of    causation 


322  THE  SPIRIT  IX 

when  he  discovered  that,  it  he  puts  his  finger  in  the 
fire,  he  will  always  suffer  pain.  And  the  savage  is 
always  making  use  of  this  law  of  causation,  as  we  call 
it,  in  his  struggle  for  life.  It  is  to  him,  and  still  to  us, 
a  means  of  carrying  on  that  struggle.  We  have 
through  ages  learnt  to  use  the  fact  which  we  call  causa- 
tion for  our  own  purposes,  and  still  we  see  it  and 
conceive  it  in  relation  to  those  purposes.  Still  it  is  to 
us  a  means,  if  not  of  using  things,  of  discovering  facts. 
It  is  the  law  of  the  universe,  as  we  make  use  of  the 
universe.  We  have  acquired  knowledge  of  causes  and 
effects;  this  knowledge  has  meant  to  us  making  use; 
and  we  have  flown  to  the  further  conclusion  that  where 
we  can  make  use  we  know.  But  all  we  do  know  about 
causation  is  this,  that  in  practice  we  can  count  upon 
certain  things  happening  where  certain  other  things 
have  happened  before.  Mill  said  that  the  cause  of 
anything  is  the  total  assemblage  of  the  conditions  that 
precede  its  appearance.  But  this  definition  has  always 
been  felt  to  be  untrue,  because  it  makes  "  the  law  of 
causation  "  useless  to  us.  We  never  do  know  the  total 
assemblage  of  the  conditions,  and  yet  we  can  observe 
causation  and  make  use  of  it.  So  a  different  definition 
has  been  found,  namely,  that  cause  is  a  conception  we 
find  useful  in  our  dealings  with  nature,  that  among  the 
conditions  of  an  event  we  find  some  from  which,  as  a 
matter  of  fact,  we  are  able  to  foretell  the  event. 
Those  we  call  its  cause  or  causes.  In  that  definition  it 
is  frankly  confessed  that  causation  is  a  conception  we 
make  use  of;  but  it  is  still  one  so  vague  that  it  is  use- 
ful to  us  rather  because  it  gives  us  a  kind  of  faith  than 
because  it  helps  us  practically  to  discover  or  to  make 
use  of  anything.  It  gives  us  faith  that  we  shall  dis- 
cover and  shall  make  use,  faith  in  a  universal  uni- 
formity. And  from  this  faith  comes  a  sense  of  power; 
it  convinces  us  that  we  are  able  to  constrain  that  which 
is  not  ourselves  to  our  own  purpose.  The  saying 
"  knowledge  is  power  "  is  an  expression  of  it.     And 


IX  SPIRIT  AND  MATTER  323 

since  we,  through  the  action  of  causation,  seem  to  be 
able  to  exercise  a  compulsion  on  things,  we  come  to 
believe  that  causation  itself  is  a  compulsion  exercised 
upon  all  things,  ourselves  included,  from  outside.  It 
Is  the  universal  seen  as  compulsion,  and  seen  so  because 
we  see  it  in  the  relation  of  use.  So  we  get  the  notion 
of  a  compulsory  universe,  in  which  everything  compels 
everything  else  to  do  what  it  does  not  want  to  do, 
and  is  itself  compelled  by  this  law  of  causation;  and 
further,  of  a  universe  in  which  everything  is  made  for 
some  use:  once  a  use  to  men,  then  a  use  to  God,  and 
now  a  use  to  an  abstraction  called  Nature.  Nature 
wishes  us  and  all  things  to  survive  or  to  attain  to  some 
kind  of  perfection  through  the  struggle  for  survival; 
and  so  we  and  all  things  are  related  to  each  other  only 
in  terms  of  that  struggle,  whether  we  like  it  or  not. 
This  relation  is  imposed  on  all  things  and  we  conceive 
of  all  things,  ourselves  included,  as  passive  under  it,  as 
things  seem  passive  under  us  when  we  make  use  of 
them.  All  things  are  tied  and  bound  to  each  other  by 
the  chain  of  this  relation;  all  things  are  trying  to  make 
use  of  each  other,  and  cannot  do  anything  but  try  to 
make  use  of  each  other.  Things  appear  to  be  passive 
to  us  when  we  make  use  of  them,  and  so  we  think  of  all 
things,  ourselves  included,  as  passive  under  the  uni- 
versal compulsion. 

But  a  cabbage  is  not  purely  passive  to  us  when  we 
grow  it  for  the  table.  We  use  it,  but  we  do  not  compel 
it  to  grow.  We  can  apply  certain  conditions  of  our 
own  choice  to  it;  but  it  answers  to  them  in  its  own  way 
and  according  to  its  own  nature.  It  has  at  least  the 
power  of  turning  the  nourishment  we  give  it  into  itself; 
and  the  law  of  causation  means  to  us  that  we  can  count 
upon  its  turning  that  nourishment  into  itself  and  not 
into  something  else.  Nourishment  becomes  something 
different  in  the  cabbage  from  what  it  becomes  in  me, 
because  the  cabbage  is  a  cabbage  ami  I  am  I.  What- 
ever happens  to  every  living  creature  becomes  in  that 


324  THE  SPIRIT  ix 

creature  something  different  from  what  it  would  be- 
come if  it  happened  to  any  other  creature.  There  is 
in  all  that  lives  an  active  contribution  to  every  effect 
produced  on  Itself,  which  means  that  the  effect  is  not 
merely  effect.  It  means  that  all  that  lives  is  a  fount 
of  original  causation,  or  rather  the  words  "  cause  and 
effect,"  if  we  mean  anything  by  them  at  all,  will  not 
describe  what  happens  to  and  in  living  creatures.  The 
whole  conception  of  causation  is  a  conception  of  things 
not  living  but  dead;  and  it  has  grown  up  in  our  minds 
because  things,  when  we  make  use  of  them,  are  to  us 
not  living  but  dead.  We  see  them  only  in  a  relation 
of  use  to  ourselves;  that  is  to  say,  as  existing  for  us 
and  utterly  dependent  on  us.  But  no  living  thing  exists 
for  us  or  is  utterly  dependent  on  us;  we  may  exercise 
compulsion  on  it,  but  we  cannot  exercise  compulsion  on 
its  nature.  Yet  our  notion  of  causation  is  a  notion  of 
everything  exercising  compulsion  on  the  nature  of 
everything  else.  From  it  is  left  out  the  nature,  the 
life,  the  identity  of  all  things,  that  which  in  ourselves 
we  call  freedom.  And  since  this  obvious  fact  is  left 
out  of  our  notion  of  causation,  we  are  unable  to  state 
the  law  of  causation  in  a  manner  satisfactory  to  our- 
selves. We  call  it  a  law,  but  it  remains  merely  a  faith 
that  things  will  continue  to  behave  with  a  uniformity 
which  enables  us  to  make  use  of  them. 

It  is  a  significant  fact  that  mathematics,  the  science 
which  is  most  free  from  the  relation  of  use,  the  science 
in  which  man  does  not  deal  with  things  of  use  to  him 
but  with  pure  concepts  or  abstractions,  is  not  concerned 
with  causes  and  effects  but  with  properties.  The  prop- 
erties of  a  circle  are  not  caused  by  any  external  or  pre- 
ceding conditions;  they  are  not  caused  by  any  other 
properties  of  the  circle  itself.  They  are  the  circle  it- 
self; they  are  that  which  makes  it  a  circle.  We  may 
discover  them  one  after  another;  and  we  may  discover 
one  because  we  have  discovered  another;  but  they  exist 
simultaneously  and  do  not  cause  one  another  any  more 


IX  SPIRIT  AND  MATTER  325 

than  we  cause  them  by  discovering  them.  The  circle  is 
what  it  is  by  the  law  of  its  own  being  and  not  by  the 
pressure  of  circumstances.  We  know  this  about  the 
circle  because  we  are  able  to  contemplate  it  purely  and 
not  as  an  object  of  use  to  ourselves;  and  mathematics 
is  the  type  of  all  sciences  because,  dealing  as  it  does  with 
pure  concepts,  it  is  freed  from  the  relation  of  use. 
From  mathematics  man  first  learned  what  pure  science 
is.  He  had  to  find  a  world  purely  of  his  own  thought, 
before  he  could  understand  how  it  was  necessary  to 
contemplate  the  real  world  if  he  was  to  see  it  as  it  is. 
Mathematics  are  to  man  a  prophecy  of  reality,  because 
in  them  he  can  escape  entirely  out  of  the  relation  of 
use.  But,  the  moment  we  come  to  deal  with  actual 
things,  there  is  the  pull  of  the  relation  of  use  upon  our 
reason  itself,  a  pull  as  incessant  as  that  of  the  attrac- 
tion of  gravity  upon  our  bodies.  It  is  not  merely  a 
pull  upon  particular  processes  of  reasoning;  it  enters 
into  our  very  conceptions  of  reality,  those  conceptions 
that  seem  to  us  to  belong  not  to  our  minds  but  to 
reality  itself. 

Thus  there  is  a  perpetual  incongruity  in  our  concep- 
tions of  reality.  We  assume  them  to  be  single  and 
concordant,  whereas  there  is  a  duality  and  conflict  in 
them,  because  we  are  always  seeing  things  in  two  dif- 
ferent relations,  namely,  the  relation  of  use  to  ourselves 
which  will  tell  us  nothing  about  reality,  and  that  other 
relation  of  which  we  become  aware  when  we  rise  out 
of  the  relation  of  use,  the  relation,  as  it  were,  of  notes 
in  a  tune.  Of  this  relation  we  are  most  intensely 
aware  in  ourselves.  There  are  times  when  we  become 
to  ourselves,  not  things  making  use  and  being  made  use 
of,  but  notes  in  a  universal  tune,  of  which  we  are  a 
part,  not  by  any  compulsion,  but  because  it  is  our  own 
nature  to  be  a  part  of  it.  Only  in  becoming  a  part  of 
it  do  we  find  our  nature,  our  identity;  then  we  act  in  a 
certain  way,  not  because  circumstances  compel  us,  but 
because  wc   are   what  we   are,   and  because   all   other 


326  lUL  SPIRIT  IX 

things  are  what  they  are.  Then,  too,  we  are  aware  of 
utter  freedom,  the  freedom  of  the  circle,  which  is 
what  it  is,  and  no  external  circumstances  can  make  it 
otherwise.  But  we  difier  from  the  circle  in  tliis,  that, 
being  actual  living  creatures,  and  necessarily  in  some 
kind  of  relation  with  all  other  actual  things,  our  task 
is  not  only  to  be  what  we  are,  but  also  to  act  what  we 
are.  In  our  relation  with  external  reality  doing  is  a 
part  of  being,  as  it  is  not  with  the  circle.  So  we  have 
to  achieve  that  relation  in  which  we  are  fully  ourselves, 
and  that  is  true  of  all  actual  things;  they  are  not,  like 
mathematical  concepts,  merely  in  a  relation  of  being, 
they  are  in  a  relation  of  action,  which  may  be  one  of 
use  or  one  of  reality,  one  in  which  they  attain  to  the 
freedom  of  being  completely  themselves.  For  us,  at 
least,  there  are  times,  however  rare,  when  the  whole 
self  seems  to  act  in  accordance  with  its  own  being,  when 
our  actions  are  our  properties,  when  we  know  that  we 
are  not  machines  nor  yet  mere  concepts,  but  notes  in  a 
tune  finding  their  identity  because  they  are  in  the  tune. 

A  great  piece  of  music  has  the  mathematical  quality; 
but  it  has  also  passion  aroused  by  a  relation  with  ex- 
ternal reality.  Yet  the  external  reality  has  not  caused 
the  passion  so  much  as  given  it  a  subject  matter  through 
which  it  can  express  itself.  So  we  in  our  supreme 
moments  seem  to  get  from  external  reality  a  subject 
matter  through  which  we  express  ourselves.  A  circle 
has  no  subject  matter;  it  does  not  express  itself  but 
merely  is  itself.  We  at  our  highest  are  ourselves  and 
express  ourselves  in  action. 

But  we  are  ourselves  and  express  ourselves  only 
when  we  rise  into  a  full  perception  of  external  reality 
and  into  a  full  relation  with  it,  by  escaping  from  the 
relation  of  use.  We  cannot  pass  out  of  the  relation  of 
use  into  no  relation  at  all,  into  a  higher  and  lonely 
egotism.  Egotism  is  always  the  result  of  the  tyranny 
of  the  relation  of  use  over  the  mind.  The  egotist 
does  not  merely  act,  but  also  thinks  and  feels,  in  terms 


IX  SPIRIT  AND  MATTER  327 

of  that  relation.  The  higher  egotist  sees  even  his 
dreams,  his  ideals,  his  moral  effort,  in  terms  of  it; 
and  so,  even  in  them,  he  never  escapes  from  himself. 
He  has  them  because  others  who  were  not  egotists  have 
had  them;  he  is  imitative,  parasitic  upon  the  spiritual 
achievements  of  others;  but  these  achievements  he  sees 
always  in  terms  of  use  to  himself,  and  so  misunder- 
stands and  misuses  them.  Thus,  in  extreme  cases,  a 
lunatic  imagines  himself  to  be  God.  He  has  got  the 
idea  of  God  from  others,  but  it  means  to  him  only  his 
own  eminence,  his  own  tyranny  over  all  things.  He  is 
unable  to  make  terms  with  a  God  who  is  not  himself, 
because  he  sees  God  only  in  the  relation  of  use;  there- 
fore he  must  himself  be  God  if  he  is  to  believe  in  a 
God  at  all.  He  attains  to  an  imaginary  tyranny  over 
all  things  because  he  cannot  escape  from  the  tyranny  of 
the  relation  of  use  over  his  own  mind;  he  is  so  much  at 
the  mercy  of  circumstance,  seeing  it  only  in  the  rela- 
tion of  use,  that  life  would  be  intolerable  to  him  if  he 
did  not  persuade  himself  that  he  was  the  lord  and 
master  of  circumstance.  And  in  all  egotism,  especially 
the  egotism  of  religion,  there  is  this  desire  to  be  lord 
and  master  of  circumstance.  Men  believe  in  God  that 
they  may  be  masters  of  circumstance,  and  imagine  a 
God  who  will  give  them  mastery;  they  make  him  a 
tyrant  over  themselves,  that  he  may  delegate  some  of 
his  tyranny  to  them. 

But  if  we  can  rise  out  of  the  relation  of  use  into 
another  relation,  the  relation  of  value,  we  are  no  longer 
at  the  mercy  of  things,  nor  do  we  wish  to  be  their 
master.  Rather  we  are  more  intensely  ourselves,  and 
they  to  us  are  more  intensely  themselves,  in  this  new 
relation  not  of  slavery  or  dominance  but  of  value. 
Our  reality  is  heightened  by  our  perception  of  an  ex- 
ternal reality,  of  which  we  see  the  true  nature  because 
we  do  not  see  it  in  a  relation  of  use  to  ourselves.  The 
perception  and  the  value  are  simultaneous,  are  indeed 
one. 


328  THE  SPIRIT  ix 

When  this  reality  is  altofrcthcr  hidden  from  us  by 
the  relation  of  use,  the  universe  is  to  us  a  nonsense  uni- 
verse. We  are  aware  only  of  particulars  in  it,  per- 
ceived by  the  senses  and  to  be  made  use  of.  And,  since 
many  of  these  are  useless  or  harmful  to  us,  much  of  the 
universe  has  no  meaninp^  to  us  or  an  evil  meaning.  It 
is  all  something  we  would  make  use  of  if  we  could;  but 
the  chain  of  necessity  that  binds  it,  and  through  which 
we  are  able  to  make  use  of  it,  also  limits  its  use  to  us, 
and  even  gives  to  it  that  tyranny  over  us  which  we 
desire  to  exercise  over  it.  We  are  then  related  to  all 
things  as  we  should  be  to  each  other,  if  we  had  no  aim 
except  to  make  use  of  each  other.  We  know  that  in 
human  relations  we  must  escape  from  use  to  value,  if 
w^e  arc  to  know  each  other  or  to  enjoy  each  other  at  all. 
A  man  who  sees  other  men  only  in  the  relation  of  use 
is  a  criminal  and  has  to  be  treated  as  such.  So  the 
universe  treats  us,  if  we  see  it  only  in  a  relation  of  use 
to  ourselves;  and  it  is  as  meaningless  to  us  as  civilised 
society  is  to  the  criminal.  It  punishes  us,  as  society 
punishes  the  criminal,  with  the  sense  of  its  tyranny;  it 
is  to  us  a  prison. 

It  is  also  what  music  would  be  to  a  man  who  looked 
to  it  for  useful  information.  He  would  listen  to  the 
sounds,  expecting  them  to  tell  him  something  of  advan- 
tage to  himself,  and  they  would  be  mere  noises  to  him 
in  no  relation  with  each  other;  for  their  relation  with 
each  other  is  not  one  of  use  to  him,  but  of  beauty. 
When  that  is  not  perceived  they  are  nonsense,  a  chaos 
of  noise.  All  art  is  both  spirit  and  matter,  and  we 
cannot  distinguish  the  one  from  the  other  in  it.  The 
spirit  is  the  arrangement  of  the  matter;  in  that  arrange- 
ment the  world  is  utterly  become  flesh.  The  matter  is 
what  it  is  because  of  the  spirit;  and  unless  we  perceive 
the  spirit  in  it,  the  universal  informing  the  particular, 
it  is  nonsense  to  us.      So  it  is  with  the  universe. 

Now  the  natural  sciences  by  themselves  reveal  to  us 
a  certain  material  coherence  in  external  reality;  but,  so 


IX  SPIRIT  AND  MATTER  329 

long  as  it  Is  merely  material,  it  is  to  us  like  a  geometri- 
cal pattern  in  which  there  is  neither  beauty  nor  mean- 
ing, nor  even  consistent  use  to  ourselves.  If  we  look 
for  use  to  ourselves  in  it  we  find  that  it  is  part  useful 
and  part  harmful.  So  we  think  of  it  as  half  friendly, 
half  hostile,  and  we  cannot  see  why  it  should  be  one, 
if  also  the  other.  So  still  it  is  nonsense;  and  we,  while 
we  live  in  terms  of  use,  are  nonsense  to  ourselves,  mere 
matter  also  forced  by  some  external  compulsion  into 
the  pattern;  and  we  think  that  this  pattern,  meaning- 
less, unbeautiful,  half  useful,  half  harmful,  is  reality, 
and  we  ourselves  are  but  as  the  rest  of  it. 

In  fact,  the  natural  sciences  by  themselves  give  a 
coherence  to  reality  which  is  self-contradictory;  for  it  is 
meaningless  to  us,  yet  coherence  implies  meaning.  It 
is  as  if  we  found  a  grammatical  structure  in  sounds 
without  sense,  or  a  machine  which  worked  incessantly 
yet  which  had  been  made  for  no  purpose.  It  is  this 
coherence  without  meaning  that  appals  the  modern 
mind,  so  long  as  it  seems  the  whole  of  reality.  But  the 
contradiction  is  In  the  mind  itself,  not  in  reality,  in  the 
mind  that  believes  there  can  be  a  mechanical  coherence, 
one  to  be  perceived  by  the  pure  intellect  alone,  without 
also  a  spiritual  coherence  and  meaning  to  be  perceived 
by  all  the  spiritual  powers  of  the  mind.  The  material 
coherence  Is  but  the  beginning,  the  first  hint  or  proph- 
ecy, of  the  spiritual  coherence.  But  the  mind  gets  no 
further  towards  seeing  It  If,  from  age-long  habit,  it 
looks  for  the  meaning  of  the  material  coherence  in  use 
to  Itself.  It  has.  In  the  mere  discovery  of  fact,  escaped 
from  that  atavism;  it  no  longer  sees  things  merely  as  It 
wishes  to  see  them,  so  that  It  may  make  itself  comfort- 
able among  them.  It  makes  theories  which  It  tests  In- 
cessantly by  the  facts.  But  still  In  Its  values  the  old 
atavism  prc\ails,  and  it  asks,  What  use  is  this  coherence 
to  me  ? 

So  long  as  It  asks  that  (]ucsti(jn,  the  coherence,  estab- 
lished and  proved  as  it  Is,  has  no  meaning  for  it.     The 


330  THE  SPIRIT  ix 

value  for  truth  by  itself  will  not  avail  to  discover  the 
truth.  It  will  show  us  the  coherence  but  not  its  mean- 
ing. For  the  full  perception  of  reality  we  need  the  full 
sense  of  the  universal,  as  beauty  and  righteousness,  as 
well  as  truth.  And  it  is  only  by  means  of  these  three 
perceptions,  all  working  together  and  throwing  light  on 
each  other,  that  we  can  even  advance  towards  a  full 
perception. 

The  value  for  truth  by  itself  will  enable  us  to  escape 
from  rhe  relation  of  use  in  the  discovery  of  material 
facts;  but,  with  the  value  for  truth  alone,  we  shall  still 
remain  in  the  relation  of  use  in  our  valuing  of  those 
facts.  We  may  try  to  rise  out  of  it  heroically;  but 
truth  alone  will  not  show  us  any  other  relation  to  rise 
into.  It  will  give  us  mere  stoicism,  in  which  we  shall 
set  our  teeth  and  say  that,  though  mere  matter  in  a 
unlv^erse  of  matter,  we  will  behave  as  spirit  would  be- 
have if  there  were  any  spirit;  though  meaningless  parts 
of  a  meaningless  process,  we  will  act  as  if  we  and  it 
had  meaning.  Though  faith,  hope,  and  charity  are 
virtues  created  by  the  illusions  of  man,  yet  we  will  make 
them  our  virtues.  I  can  never  believe  that  this  stoicism 
is  as  hopeless  and  faithless  as  it  pretends  to  itself  to  be. 

For  the  fact  that  the  pattern  is  meaningless  to  us 
does  seem  to  imply  always  that  it  must  have  a  meaning. 
Mere  chaos  could  not  suggest  even  that  it  ought  to 
have  a  meaning;  and  if  we  were  part  of  a  chaos  we 
should  not  be  looking  for  one.  We  are  not  satisfied 
with  a  merely  material  meaning,  with  an  explanation 
of  all  things  in  terms  of  the  struggle  for  life,  because 
that  is  not  a  meaning  to  us  at  all.  It  is  not  the  mean- 
ing of  our  own  spiritual  perceptions,  even  of  our  value 
for  truth.  But  this  unhappy  stage  which  we  reach 
when  we  see  a  material  coherence  in  things  and  no  other 
—  what  is  it  but  a  phase  in  our  evolution,  that  is  to  say, 
in  our  struggle  towards  fulness  of  perception.  The 
doctrine  of  evolution  can  warn  us  of  this  —  that  our 
perception   of   reality   is   always   a   matter   of   degree. 


IX  SPIRIT  AND  MATTER  331 

We  are  not  sharply  separated  from  the  beasts  merely 
because  we  are  reasoning  animals;  our  very  reason  is 
still  subject  to  animal  habits.  Nor  can  we  escape  sud- 
denly from  the  perception  of  a  merely  material  world 
to  the  perception  of  a  reality  that  is  not  material  at  all. 
For  that  is  a  phantom  of  the  mind.  The  beginnings  of 
the  perception  of  reality  in  the  lowest  animals  are  to 
be  found  in  sensations,  by  means  of  which  they  are 
aware  not  even  of  objects  but  merely  that  they  them- 
selves feel;  or  rather  they  are  not  even  aware  of  them- 
selves as  feeling,  but  only  of  their  feelings.  Self-con- 
sciousness comes  gradually  and  only  with  fuller  percep- 
tion of  that  which  is  not  self.  Man  is  aware  of  self,  of 
his  own  identity,  more  and  more  as  he  becomes  aware 
of  not-self.  But  even  we  have  only  fragmentary 
glimpses  of  reality  and,  in  them,  are  but  fragments  of 
ourselves.  So  we  cannot  attain  to  complete  self-con- 
sciousness by  ignoring  external  reality;  but  only  by 
being  more  and  more  fully  aware  of  it,  of  the  universal 
in  the  particular,  of  matter  and  spirit  as  one.  Then 
we  become  to  ourselves  one,  like  the  tune  in  the  notes, 
like  the  sense  in  the  words;  and  the  universe  becomes 
one  to  us  also. 

The  Meaning  of  Evolution 

It  is  strange  that  the  doctrine  of  evolution  has  so 
often  led  men  to  unhappy  notions  of  the  nature  of 
reality,  seeing  in  it  at  best  but  a  merely  artistic  process 
with  millions  of  experiments  and  failures  for  one  even- 
tual masterpiece.  That  is  Nietzsche's  idea,  the  idea  of 
a  man  with  a  passionate  sense  of  beauty,  who  tries  to 
see  reality  only,  in  the  light  of  that  sense.  Beauty  by 
itself  will  not  satisfy  the  values  of  man;  no  excellence 
by  itself,  seen  merely  as  excellence,  will  do  that;  there 
is  still  something  cruel  in  mere  trium]")hant  excellence. 
It  is  like  the  mere  virtuosity  of  art,  the  mere  skill  of 
Mo/art.  If  a  man  sees  only  that  in  Mo/art's  music, 
he  does  not  know  why  Mozart  made  his  music;  and  it 


332  THE  SPlRir  IX 

is  to  him  a  frame  which  may  please  him  in  his  hours  of 
ease  hut  will  not  answer  the  questions  of  his  sorrow. 
If  there  is  nothing  but  virtuosity  in  Nature,  nothing  but 
the  effort  to  protluce  masterpieces,  then  Nature  is  a 
brainless  artist  not  knowing  why  masterpieces  should  be 
produced.  And  tlicre  is  this  contradiction  of  the 
brainless  artist,  who  produces  masterpieces  without 
knowing  why,  in  all  the  talk  about  Nature  when  she  is 
thought  of  as  a  mere  blind  process  and  yet  called  she; 
when  she  is  praised  for  a  loveliness  she  did  not  mean  to 
produce,  and  all  the  while  there  is  no  she  producing  it 
but  merely  things  being  produced.  The  struggle  for 
life  does  produce  not  merely  life  but  masterpieces; 
which,  if  there  is  nothing  but  a  struggle  for  life,  is 
absurd. 

We  shall  see  our  way  to  sense  only  if  we  take  our 
sense  of  the  masterpiece  to  be  a  sense  of  reality  itself, 
if  that  sense  is  not  merely  a  freak  or  by-product  of  evo- 
lution, but  both  the  end  and  the  means  in  the  process. 
In  that  process  we  never  escape  from  the  struggle  for 
life;  but  the  struggle  itself,  with  all  the  relation  of  use 
it  imposes  on  us,  yet  makes  us  aware  of  another  rela- 
tion; and  our  effort  is  to  be  aware  of  that  relation  more 
and  more.  As  w^e  make  use  of  particulars,  in  our  very 
use  of  them  we  become  aware  of  universals.  Indeed, 
we  ourselves,  making  particulars  to  be  of  use  to  our- 
selves, do  also  make  universals.  The  mere  craftsman, 
making  things  of  use  for  the  sake  of  their  use,  in  that 
rises  from  the  craftsman  to  the  artist;  in  his  own  work 
he  may  see  an  image  of  what  he  can  attain  to  in  his  per- 
ception of  reality. 

A  man  makes  a  pot  or  builds  a  house  for  use.  Clay, 
stone,  are  to  him  as  yet  only  material  to  be  made  use  of. 
But  if  he  makes  the  pot  or  builds  the  house  of  good 
material  and  good  workmanship,  and  if  above  all  he 
designs  it  fitly  for  its  purpose,  then  the  pot  or  the  house 
has,  without  his  intention,  a  beauty  that  comes  of  its 
fitness  for  its  purpose.     This  beauty,  which  I  will  call 


IX  SPIRIT  AND  MATTER  333 

functional,  is  like  the  beauty  of  natural  thinfjs  as  we 
perceive  it  without  any  sense  of  spiritual  meaning  in  it. 
It  is  like  the  beauty  of  a  pine  growing  in  a  rock  and  fit- 
ting itself  by  the  design  of  its  growth  to  its  position. 
But  the  craftsman,  when  he  sees  this  beauty,  sees  it  as 
beauty,  not  merely  as  use;  he  values  it,  as  beauty,  be- 
yond use.  And  this  perception  of  functional  beauty 
as  beauty,  this  value  for  it  as  beauty,  leads  him  in  his 
next  work  to  emphasise  the  functional  beauty  as  beauty, 
and  so  to  turn  it  into  expressive  or  artistic  beauty,  with 
a  quality  of  his  own  self  in  it.  He  gives  a  more  deli- 
cate curve  to  the  pot  and  then  a  curve  more  and  more 
delicate,  until,  in  an  age  passionate  for  beauty,  he  at- 
tains to  the  masterpieces  of  the  Sung  pottery.  But  al- 
ways the  expression  could  not  begin  unless  the  work- 
man were  aware  of  functional  beauty  as  beauty,  not  as 
mere  use.  That  functional  beauty  is,  as  it  were,  given 
away  to  him  with  a  pound  of  tea.  It  comes  to  him  in 
his  struggle  for  life;  but  if  he  sees  it  as  something  not 
merely  useful  to  him  in  that  struggle,  if  he  values  it  for 
its  own  sake,  then  he  is  led  on  to  expressive  art;  then 
from  an  intelligent  animal  he  becomes  a  God,  or  at 
least  an  angel. 

And  it  is  the  same  in  morals.  Those  virtues  most 
valued  by  Christ  Himself,  love,  self-sacrifice,  fellow- 
ship, are,  to  begin  with,  instincts  most  valuable  in  the 
struggle  for  life,  valuable  to  the  herd  at  least,  if  not  to 
the  individual.  The  type  of  all  love  is  the  love  of  a 
mother  for  her  child;  and  that  is  an  animal  instinct 
without  which  the  race  could  not  survive.  But  man  has 
the  divine  faculty  of  recognising  it  to  be  a  virtue  in 
itself  and  not  merely  a  useful  instinct.  It  has  a  value 
for  him  that  is  not  its  survival  value;  and  because  it  is 
virtue  to  him,  as  functional  beauty  is  beauty  to  the 
craftsman,  he  aims  at  it  for  its  own  sake  anil  bccotncs 
morally  expressive  as  the  craftsman  becomes  aesthetic- 
ally expressive.  He  extends  it,  from  the  particular  re- 
lation of  the  mother  with  her  child,  to  all  other  human 


;vU  THE  SPIRIT  IX 

relations,  not  because  it  is  use  but  because  it  is  virtue. 
And  so  it  is  with  fellowship  and  self-sacrifice,  both  to 
bep;in  with  herd  instincts.  They  too  are  recognised 
and  valued  as  virtue,  not  as  mere  use,  and  are  prac- 
tised, not  so  that  the  herd  may  survive  —  often  they 
are  practised  in  defiance  of  the  herd  —  but  because  they 
are  virtues.  All  these  virtues  are  wild  virtues;  and 
when  Christianity  sets  up  the  statue  of  the  mother  and 
her  child  for  worship,  it  affirms  that  the  universe  is  not 
unkind  or  unmeaning  to  the  values  of  man;  that  the 
highest  virtues  are  to  begin  with  wild  virtues,  spring- 
ing out  of  nature  herself  and  not  imposed  by  the  ar- 
bitrary will  of  God.  In  the  mother,  spirit  and  sense 
are  one,  and  the  divine  beauty  we  see  in  her  is  one  to 
our  spirit  and  sense.  It  has  its  use;  and  it  stirs  the 
heart  and  brings  tears  to  the  eyes,  as  no  mere  thing  of 
use  would  do. 

We  can  fancy  what  stirrings  of  the  spirit  there  were 
in  our  distant  forefathers  when  they  saw  their  wives 
with  the  babe  at  the  breast;  how  they  wished  to  share 
in  that  love;  how  fiercely  they  would  fight  for  the 
mother  and  child;  and  how  they  worshipped  the  divine 
principle  of  generation  that  gave  so  much  holiness  and 
beauty  to  the  world.  And  we  can  fancy  them  too  look- 
ing at  the  pots  they  had  turned,  wondering  at  their 
beauty  and  then  heightening  it.  We  know  that  is  how 
they  became  artists  and  how  the  passion  for  righteous- 
ness grew  in  them.  But  still  to  us  nature,  when  it  is 
merely  nature,  is  an  unknowing  artist;  and  the  beauty 
of  the  visible  world  leaves  us  sad  and  baffled.  It  seems 
to  speak,  but  not  to  us;  to  pour  out  its  beauty,  but  not 
with  any  desire  for  fellowship.  And  so  that  beauty  is 
to  us  not  expression  but  an  accident  of  phenomena,  as 
the  shapes  made  by  hoar  frost  on  the  window  have  a 
chance  resemblance  to  fern  leaves.  And  men  say  that 
the  beauty  of  nature  has  no  existence  outside  their  own 
perception  of  it,  for  they  see  in  nature  no  will  and  no 
virtue.      She,    unlike   the    artist,    sings   about   nothing. 


IX  SPIRIT  AND  MATTER  335 

There  is  no  experience  of  her  own  expressed  in  her 
own  beauty,  no  value  for  anything,  e\en  for  her  own 
beauty.  How  therefore  can  there  be  beauty  except  in 
our  perception  of  it.  If  there  is  no  artist  how  can 
there  be  art? 

Yet  the  savage  made  for  himself  myths  of  an  artist, 
because  he  saw  what  he  took  to  be  art;  without  knowing 
it  he  answered  in  those  myths  a  philosophic  question  we 
still  put  to  ourselves  and  cannot  answer.  Because 
modern  man  sees  both  beauty  and  virtue  in  the  works 
of  man,  and  only  beauty  in  nature,  he  is  not  assured  of 
the  presence  of  spirit  in  nature,  and  so  comes  to  be 
doubtful  of  it  in  himself.  But  he  will  never  be  satisfied 
to  see  only  beauty  in  nature;  for  beauty  by  itself  makes 
no  answer  to  his  own  spirit,  nor  can  his  spirit  make 
answer  happily  to  it.  Only  if  he  could  find  virtue  as 
well  as  beauty  and  truth  in  reality  outside  himself  could 
he  see  in  it  the  promise  of  a  final  and  complete  fellow- 
ship with  himself.  Spirit  is  not  spirit  unless  all  the  uni- 
versals  are  manifested  in  it.  All  of  them,  however  im- 
perfectly, are  manifested  in  man,  but  not  outside  him. 
So  he  remains  lonely  and  hungry  in  a  universe  that 
seems  occupied  with  its  own  business  but  will  not  speak 
to  him;  and  he  is  always  trying  to  accommodate  himself 
to  it,  to  assert  its  value  and  rightness,  as  he  sees  it; 
always  telling  himself  that  the  desire  of  his  own  heart 
is  foolishness  that  leads  him  astray.  Yet  still  he  can- 
not content  himself  with  the  truth  that  science  offers 
him  when  it  denies  him  the  hope  of  fellowship;  and  he 
still  looks  back  to  the  old  myths  of  an  artist  who  has 
expressed  himself  in  the  beauty  of  nature,  or  the  later 
more  moving  myth  of  a  God  who  is  lover  as  well  as  ar- 
tist. If  those  were  made  only  by  the  heart  of  man, 
what  was  it  that  gave  man  the  heart  to  make  them? 
They  arc  his  answer  to  the  nature  of  things;  what  in  the 
nature  of  things  caused  him  to  make  that  answer? 

A  modern  philos(;phy  based  on  the  doctrine  of  evo- 
lution has  offered  us  a  bright  and  cheerful  substitute 


336  THE  SPIRIT  ix 

lor  the  desire  of  man's  heart.  It  is  the  very  best  mar- 
garine; If  you  had  never  tasted  butter  you  ini^rht  think 
it  was  butter.  It  tells  us  that  the  whole  of  reality, .our- 
selves included,  is  evolving,  and  to  what?  The  goal  it- 
self is  in  the  future  and  not  merely  the  attainment  of  it. 
It  may  be  that  there  ivill  be  spirit  in  us  and  outside  us. 
That  hunger  we  feel  for  it  is  the  very  process  of  evolu- 
tion working  in  us.  We  are  hungry  for  the  future  of 
the  human  race,  perhaps  of  the  universe;  we  smell  a 
dinner  that  is  not  yet  cooked.  The  glory  of  life  con- 
sists in  this  that  we  live  in  a  universe  of  change;  and 
there  is  nothing,  not  even  the  goal  of  all  change,  fixed 
and  stable.  We  make  our  hopes  of  the  goal,  our  con- 
ception of  it,  and  so  the  goal  itself,  as  we  go.  Every- 
thing solvitur  amhiilatido.  Our  very  values  are  subject 
to  change  with  everything  else.  They  too  are  for 
something  altogether  in  the  future.  If  we  say  God,  we 
mean  the  future.  He  himself  may  evolve  with  our 
conceptions  of  him;  He  and  our  values  are  notions  that 
further  the  process  of  evolution  in  us;  they  are  means 
to  an  end;  and  what  we  really  value  and  worship  Is  our 
own  progress,  or  at  best  the  progress  of  the  universe. 
All  good  Is  but  the  scent  of  our  own  future.  The  sav- 
age had  the  scent  of  ourselves  before  him;  we  have  the 
scent  of  other  men  far  In  the  future;  and  they  will  have 
the  scent  of  yet  others.  So,  it  may  be,  their  values  will 
be  utterly  different  from  ours  with  the  Incessant  process 
of  change.  The  very  notion  of  a  present,  eternal,  and 
absolute  perfection  has  vanished  from  this  way  of 
thinking.  It  Is  sanguine,  but  In  a  political  way,  like  a 
minister  making  a  speech  about  our  prospects  In  the 
war.  It  is  entirely  opportunist  and  so  contrary  to  the 
deepest  faith  of  man,  which  cannot  value  Its  own  values 
if  they  are  only  means  to  an  end.  We  value  them  be- 
cause they  themselves  are  for  unlversals  existing  here 
and  now.  Happiness  for  us  means  belief  in  those  unl- 
versals, belief  that  they  are  both  In  us  and  outside  us. 
Our  happiness  Is  the  answer  within  us  to  them  outside 


IX  SPIRIT  AND  MATTER  337 

us;  It  is  the  sense  of  a  fellowship  of  the  absolute  to 
which  we  belong.  If  we  explain  our  values  away  in 
terms  of  something  else,  even  of  the  progress  of  man- 
kind, they  cease  to  be  our  values;  for  it  is  by  means  of 
them  alone  that  we  know  what  progress  is.  The  whole 
creation  groans  and  travails,  but  only  creation;  and  it 
groans  and  travails  not  towards  its  own  future  but  to- 
wards something  not  itself,  existing  now,  which  gives 
it  the  very  hope  of  the  future.  It  has  a  future  because 
it  is  aware  of  this  something  not  itself,  existing  now 
and  for  ever,  not  subject  to  time  and  change.  Just  as 
Alice  could  not  be  satisfied  with  jam  yesterday  and  jam 
to-morrow,  but  never  jam  to-day,  so  we  cannot  be  sat- 
isfied with  God  yesterday  and  God  to-morrow,  but 
never  God  to-day. 

Yet,  if  we  could  get  the  doctrine  of  evolution  right, 
it  might  satisfy  the  desire  of  our  hearts,  Instead  of 
offering  us  a  vain  substitute  for  that  desire.  We  are 
troubled  and  thwarted  because  we  cannot  find  the  whole 
of  our  desire  in  nature;  so  we  think  of  nature  as  having 
no  likeness  to  ourselves.  We  look  to  it  to  help  us,  and 
find  no  help  in  it  that  we  can  count  on.  But  this  look- 
ing for  help  is  but  seeing  it  in  the  relation  of  use  and 
so  failing  to  see  the  reality  of  it.  If  we  look  to  Nature 
for  help,  we  think  of  it,  or  Her,  as  something  more 
powerful  than  ourselves;  the  stars  in  their  courses 
fought  against  Sisera.  But  of  course  they  did  nothing 
of  the  kind;  and  Nature  does  not  fight  with  us  or 
against  us.  There  is  no  Nature  in  this  sense,  no  power 
omnipotent,  unintelligible,  indifferent  to  us  and  our  de- 
sires and  values.  All  the  talk  about  Nature  as  red  in 
tooth  and  claw,  or  as  superior  to  us  in  her  calm  or  her 
justice,  is  mere  myth-making,  and  a  myth  made  out  of 
our  fears.  If  men  pray  to  an  idol,  they  get  no  answer 
rom  it,  and  Nature  is  an  idol  we  have  made  because  we 
see  things  in  the  relation  of  use  to  ourselves.  Fhii 
idol,  seeking  help  from  it,  we  sec  as  superior  to  us  in 
power,  inferior  in  that  it  lacks  our  \alucs;  it  is  there- 


T,^S  THE  SPIRIT  IX 

tore  a  God  that  wc  worship  but  cannot  value,  like  the 
heathen  gods  of  the  past.  But  evolution,  though  it 
can  tell  us  nothing  about  God,  can  tell  us  this  about  Na- 
ture, that  it  is  not  God  but  less  God  than  we  are  our- 
selves, more  blindly  groaning  and  travailing.  It  is  not 
a  vast,  heartless,  omnipotent  process,  imposing  itself 
upon  us  against  our  wills,  but  a  number  of  things  with 
less  will  than  wc  have,  less  consciousness,  less  sense  of 
direction.  Evolution  has  introduced  us  to  our  own 
poor  relations;  and  we  are  so  generically  snobbish  that 
we  are  dashed  to  find  ourselves  thus  related  to  all  liv- 
ing things,  perhaps  even  to  things  not  living.  Since  the 
matter  of  ourselves  is  of  the  same  kind  as  other  matter 
we  think  that  we  are  only  matter.  After  all,  we  say, 
we  are  not  what  we  thought  ourselves,  a  little  lower 
than  the  angels;  the  spirit  in  us, does  not  separate  us  in 
kind  from  all  other  things;  therefore  there  is  no  spirit 
in  us.  Science  has  told  us  the  truth  about  our  geneal- 
ogy; we  are  not  angels  that  have  seen  better  days,  but 
animals  still  in  the  making.  So  we  are  dashed  as  if 
we  had  been  the  aristocrats  of  a  world  that  has  sud- 
denly become  a  democracy.  But  aristocrats  can  share 
in  the  joy  of  a  democracy  if  only  they  will  accept  it; 
and  there  is  a  joy,  an  immense  hope,  in  the  doctrine  of 
evolution,  if  we  will  accept  it  and  utterly  relinquish  our 
old  generic  snobbery. 

For  what  is  the  process  of  evolution  but  the  effort  of 
life  to  master  completely  all  lifeless  matter?  That 
matter  exists  to  be  the  medium  of  expression  for  life; 
and  life  itself  becomes  more  intense,  becomes  more 
completely  life,  as  it  masters  matter  and  more  and 
more  makes  it  the  medium  of  expression.  Life,  as  we 
see  it,  is  spirit  expressing  itself  and  becoming  itself 
through  the  mastery  of  matter.  The  difference  be- 
tween ourselves  and  the  lowest  forms  of  life  is  one  of 
degree,  one  of  intensity  of  life.  Consciousness  is  a 
greater  intensity  of  life  than  sensation,  reason  than  in- 
stinct, because   it  is   a   greater  mastery  over  matter. 


IX  SPIRIT  AND  MATTER 


339 


And  the  aim  of  evolution  is  always  more  and  more  mas- 
tery, more  and  more  intensity  of  life.  The  perfected 
univ^erse  would  be  one  in  which  there  was  no  matter  not 
mastered  by  intensity  of  life,  none  that  was  not  the 
medium  of  expression,  conscious,  willed,  and  so  per- 
sonal. What  troubles  and  thwarts  us  in  the  universe, 
as  we  know  it,  is  the  vast  mass  of  matter  not  mastered, 
or  only  imperfectly  mastered,  by  life;  because  it  is  un- 
mastered  matter,  less  conscious,  less  will-full,  less  per- 
sonal than  we  are,  it  seems  to  us  alien  and  often  hostile. 
We  wish  to  make  use  of  it,  and  fail,  and  often  it  seems 
to  make  use  of  us  for  some  obscure,  unvalued  purpose 
of  its  own.  We  should  know  by  this  time  that  it  Is 
masterless,  not  master,  and  so  less  powerful  than  we 
are  ourselves.  We  seek  for  a  fellowship  with  it,  but 
for  a  fellowship  of  use  to  ourselves;  and,  failing  to 
achieve  that,  we  despair  of  that  fellowship  of  the  fu- 
ture, prophesied  to  us  in  all  the  visions  of  heaven,  that 
fellowship  in  which  all  things  will  be  matter  mastered 
by  life  and  so  mastered  by  our  values,  in  which  there 
will  be  no  division  at  all  between  matter  and  spirit  but 
everywhere  and  in  all  things  expression,  form,  love,  a 
beauty  that  makes  answer  to  beauty,  a  choir  of  voices 
in  a  uni\ersal  tune. 

But  this  doctrine  is  impossible  to  us  still,  if  there  is 
nothing  for  us  but  a  universal  becoming.  The  effort  of 
life  to  master  matter  is  a  blind  effort,  unless  there  is 
also  somewhere  in  the  universe  a  life  that  is  master,  a 
spirit  to  which  all  other  spirit  makes  answer,  and  in 
making  answer  becomes  more  and  more  itself.  Vor 
that  very  self  which  spirit  desires  to  he  must  ha\'e  an 
existing  model.  Prophecy,  if  there  be  any  truth  nt  all 
in  it.  Is  a  prophecy  for  us  of  a  destiny  which  already  ex- 
ists in  that  which  is  not  us.  The  prophet  foresees  be- 
cause he  sees  what  Is.  And  the  "  prophetic  soul  of  the 
wide  world  drcnming  on  things  to  come."  that  uni\'crsal 
soul  of  which  we  are  more  or  less  dimly  aware,  exists 
and  is  universal  because  of  a  universal  to  which  it  makes 


34^ 


THE  SPIRIT  IX 


answer.  The  life  everywhere  striving  to  master  mat- 
ter, and  to  become  more  fully  life  through  the  mastery, 
could  not  strive,  could  not  have  a  goal  of  its  striving, 
if  there  were  no  master  life  to  inspire  it.  It  is  that 
master  life  that  we  mean  when  we  use  the  word  God; 
and  as  the  most  intense  life  we  know,  the  life  in  our- 
selves, is  more  personal  than  all  other  life,  so  God  is 
more  personal  because  more  intense  life  than  we  are 
ourselves.  As  St.  John  affirmed  that  God  is  love,  so 
must  we  affirm  that  God  is  life;  and  the  word  is  is  as 
much  part  of  the  affirmation  as  the  words  God  and  life. 
We  are  not  yet  fully  life  as  we  are  not  fully  love;  but 
God  is  fully  life  as  He  is  fully  love.  That  is  meant  by 
the  words  "  God  Is  a  Spirit  ";  and  we  know  dimly  and 
prophetically  what  life  is,  what  spirit  is,  because  it  ex- 
ists already  and  fully  in  God. 

Those  who  do  not  believe  that  personality  is  real,  do 
not  believe  that  life  is  real.  For  them  it  Is  merely  an 
accident  of  matter,  and  there  are  for  them  no  degrees 
of  life,  and  so  no  values.  For,  as  life  Is  not  real  to 
them,  so  it  is  not  good;  and  lacking  a  standard  of 
values  they  lack  also  a  standard  of  reality  —  they  seek 
for  one  and  cannot  find  it.  Because  spirit  is  not  real  to 
them,  matter  is  not  real  either.  What  can  be  real  to 
beings  for  whom  their  own  life,  their  own  selves,  is  illu- 
sion? The  very  mental  process  by  which  they  discover 
the  illusion  of  their  own  life  and  personality  cuts  them 
off  from  all  power  of  discovering  reality,  for  it  Is  Itself 
part  of  the  Illusion.  They  are  imprisoned  within 
themselves,  those  selves  that  do  not  exist.  At  best 
there  is,  for  them,  a  perpetual  becoming  of  nothing  to 
no  purpose,  which  sometimes,  with  a  pathetic  Incon- 
sistency, they  call  progress. 

But  if  you  affirm  progress,  you  affirm  values  and 
their  reality,  not  only  for  yourself  but  for  the  universe; 
and  If  you  affirm  values  you  affirm  spirit,  incomplete  in 
yourself,  but,  outside  you  and  somewhere,  complete. 
Your  values  are  the  answer,  the  effort,  of  your  incom- 


IX  SPIRIT  AND  MATTER  341 

pleteness  to  that  completeness;  they  are  the  life  in  you 
striving  to  become  fully  life,  to  master  the  matter 
through  which  it  must  express  itself.  It  will  not  be 
subservient  to  that  matter,  for  in  subservience  it  is  not 
fully  life.  Life  is  mastery  of  matter,  not  so  that  it 
may  continue  to  exist  —  for  the  very  anxiety  to  con- 
tinue proves  that  it  is  not  master  —  but  so  that  it  may 
express  itself  utterly  in  a  full  relation  with  all  other 
life.  For  expression,  as  art  tells  us,  is  also  communica- 
tion, It  is  a  relation  between  one  spirit  and  other  spirits. 
The  very  effort  at  expression  is  an  effort  at  communica- 
tion. What  has  happened  to  me  Is  not  complete  until 
I  have  made  it  happen  also  to  others.  My  experience 
is  not  utterly  mine  until  It  Is  shared,  nor  am  I  utterly 
myself  until  I  am  one  with  other  selves  in  a  relation  like 
that  of  notes  In  a  tune.  The  advance  to  that  relation 
is  progress. 

The  doctrine  of  evolution,  rightly  held,  makes  us 
aware  that  the  advance,  or  the  desire  for  It,  Is  universal. 
In  all  things  there  is  life  groaning  and  travailing  to 
become  more  life,  first  In  mere  sensation,  then  In  con- 
sciousness; life  hardly  differentiated  In  plants,  in  ani- 
mals differentiated,  in  man  personal.  And  we  suffer 
from  our  loneliness  in  the  universe  because  all  things 
that  we  see  have  less  life  than  we  ourselves;  that  is  the 
penalty  of  our  precedence,  of  our  greater  consciousness 
of  what  life  is.  We  demand  more  life,  a  closer  rela- 
tion with  ourselves  In  all  things  than  they  can  achieve; 
but  we  also  suffer  because  of  the  Incompleteness  of  our 
life;  matter  not  fully  mastered  drags  us  back  into  the 
relation  of  use.  The  life  In  us  seems  Insecure,  and  we 
see  all  things  as  means  of  securing  it.  But  seeing  them 
so  we  misunderstand  them.  For  they  are  not  in  their 
reality  means  of  securing  life  to  us;  they  are  like  our- 
selves, life  tryinir  to  be  more  life,  and,  even  more  tJian 
ourselves,  troubled  with  the  sense  of  insecurity.  It  is 
that  trouble  which  makes  them  seem  hostile  to  us,  as  we 
to  them.     Their  loneliness  is  really  greater  than  ours. 


342  THE  SPIRIT  IX 

Rut  there  is  no  conspiracy  of  them  against  us,  or  of 
nature  against  us  and  our  values.  For  there  is  no  such 
thing  as  nature,  but  only  life  everywhere  trying  to 
master  matter  and  be  more  life.  We  ourselves  are 
part  of  nature  in  that  our  life  and  our  mastery  of  mat- 
ter is  imperfect;  but  all  nature  is  more  than  nature,  in 
so  far  as  there  is  the  divinity  of  life,  of  spirit,  in  it. 
We  must  accept  the  truth  of  our  genealogy  if  we  are  to 
share  in  the  immeasurable  hope  which  it  offers  to  us; 
we  must  rid  our  minds  of  those  orders  of  precedence 
which  once  seemed  a  part  of  our  very  religion.  God 
did  not  make  the  sun  to  be  our  candle;  He  did  not  make 
dogs  to  be  our  pets,  or  midges  so  that  we  might  learn 
not  to  blaspheme  when  they  bite  us;  He  made  all  things 
not  for  us  but  to  Himself,  so  that  they  might  more 
and  more  attain  to  that  life  which  is  Himself.  So  long 
as  we  see  the  universe  in  the  relation  of  use  to  our- 
selves, it  remains  cold,  indifferent,  meaningless  to  us; 
but  when  we  see  it  in  relation  to  God,  sharing  the  life 
which  is  God,  but  sharing  it  even  more  imperfectly  than 
ourselves,  then  the  process  of  nature  is  no  longer  a 
meaningless,  intimidating  mechanism,  but  pathetic  and 
forgiveable  to  us  even  as  we  are  to  ourselves.  Rest- 
less are  the  hearts  of  all  things  until  they  rest  in  Thee. 


CHRIST  THE  CONSTRUCTIVE 
REVOLUTIONARY 

BY 

B.  HILLMAN  STREETER,  M.A.,  Hon.  D.D.  Edin. 

FELLOW    OF    queen's    COLLEGE,    OXFORD 

CANON    RESIDENTIARY    OF    HEREFORD 

EDITOR    OF    "  FOUNDATION,"    "  CONCERNING    PRAYER," 

"immortality,"    "god    AND    THE    STRUGGLE    FOR    EXISTENCE," 

AUTHOR    OF    "  RESTATEMENT    AND    REUNIOM  " 


ANALYSIS 

Christ  the  portrait  of  the  Spirit. 
The  conservatism  of  the  Church. 
Christ  the  critic  of  tradition. 
Christ  as  constructive  thinker. 
Christ  and  the  Church  of  His  day. 


X 

CHRIST  THE  CONSTRLXTIVE 
REVOLUTIONARY  ' 

Christ  the  Portrait  of  the  Spirit 

The  idea  of  Christ  as  "  the  portrait  of  the  invisible 
God  "  ^  is  central  to  the  New  Testament.  It  is,  in- 
deed, the  climax  of  man's  philosophy  of  God.  Round 
about  the  throne  of  God,  transcendent,  illimitable,  mys- 
terious, clouds  and  darkness  must  for  ever  hang.  "  No 
man  hath  seen  God  at  any  time  " ;  no  man  can  ever  hope 
to  comprehend  the  incomprehensible.  But  in  the  per- 
sonality of  the  Ideal  Man  we  have  an  expression  of 
Ultimate  Being  which  we  can  understand.  Moreover, 
we  attain  here  to  the  highest  and  richest  kind  of  under- 
standing of  which  man  is  capable;  for,  to  understand 
anything,  it  is  not  enough  to  look  at  it  from  without, 
we  must  have  at  least  glimmerings  of  a  knowledge 
from  within;  and  in  proportion  as  we  rise  in  the  scale 
of  life,  we  can  the  better,  by  intuitive  sympathy,  under- 
stand the  Ideal  Man  from  within. 

But  the  individual  is  the  child  of  his  time,  the  prod- 
uct of  his  family,  his  school,  his  country,  or  his  church; 
his  insight  is  limited  by  the  interests  and  values  of 
his  environment.  Hence  the  capacity  even  to  under- 
stand, much  less  to  follow,  the  highest  is  one  which 
varies  with  the  moral,  intellectual,  and  aesthetic  achieve- 
ment of  the  community.  Granted,  then,  that  Christ  is 
the  Ideal  Man,  it  follows  that  we  cannot  yet  have  com- 
pletely understood  Him;  granted  that  in  the  Ideal  Man 
we  see  God,  there  must  still  be  much  to  learn  about  the 
character  of  Ciod.  If  we  believe  that  we  find  in  Christ 
a  unique  revelation  of  the  Divine,  it  follows  froiTi  that 

1  Certain    portions   of    tliis    Kssay    arr    reprinted,    with    coniiiclcrablc    modifici- 
tlons,  from  an  article  by  the  author  in    The  Conslrucliie  Quarlrrly. 
t  Col.   i.   IS- 

345 


346  THE  SPIRIT  x 

very  fact  that  the  Christian  revelation  Is  necessarily  a 
progressive  one,  and  that  Christianity  in  proportion 
as  it  ceases  to  be  progressive  ceases  to  be  Christian. 
Theology  has  commonly  ignored  this  inference,  but 
History  supports  it. 

"  He  that  hath  seen  Me  hath  seen  the  Father."  If 
so,  it  must  be  no  less  true  to  say,  "  He  that  hath 
seen  Me  hath  seen  the  Holy  Ghost."  The  Divine 
which  is  immanent  in  man,  which  speaks  to  us  in 
the  watches  of  the  night  — "  from  whom  all  holy  de- 
sires, all  good  counsels,  and  all  just  works  do  proceed  " 
—  is  not  other  than  the  Divine  which  creates  and 
sustains  the  universe;  it  is  not  other  than  the  Divine  re- 
vealed in  Jesus  Christ.  Orthodox  theology,  no  doubt, 
would  not  only  admit,  but  vehemently  assert  this;  but 
popular  Christianity  is  Tritheism  with  reservations. 
The  average  Christian  does  not  in  the  first  place 
think  of  Christ  as  the  "  portrait  of  the  Father,"  still 
less  often  does  he  think  of  Him  as  the  portrait  of  the 
Spirit  also.  Yet  if  the  fundamental  question  for  re- 
ligion is.  What  is  God  like?  and  if  we  are  right  in 
affirming  that  He  is  like  Christ,  then  we  must  face  all 
the  implications  of  the  statement,  and  we  must  apply 
it  to  our  conception,  not  only  of  the  Transcendent 
Divine  which  traditional  theology  has  styled  "  the 
Father,"  but  of  the  Immament  Divine  who  has  been 
named  the  Holy  Ghost. 

To  work  out  the  full  implications  of  the  idea  of 
Christ  as  the  portrait  of  the  Spirit  would  require  a 
volume,  or  rather  several  volumes.  In  this  Essay  I 
select  a  single  problem,  definite  and  strictly  limited.  I 
ask  myself  the  question.  What  was  the  attitude  of  the 
historic  Jesus  to  the  ideals  and  institutions,  and.  In  par- 
ticular, the  religious  Ideals  and  institutions,  of  His 
time?  That  Is  primarily  an  historical,  even  an  aca- 
demic, question;  but  I  ask  it  In  the  conviction  that  if  I 
can  read  the  answer  to  It  rightly  I  shall  have  found 
the  answer  to  another  question,  no  longer  historical  or 


X  CONSTRUCTIVE  REVOLUTION        347 

academic,  "  What  salth  the  Spirit  unto  the  Churches  — 


now?" 


Europe  of  recent  years  has  seen,  facing  one  another 
in  the  realms  both  of  thought  and  practice,  two  tenden- 
cies violently  opposed.  On  the  one  side  has  been  the 
spirit  of  autocracy  and  authority,  clinging  tenaciously 
to  the  methods  and  ideals  of  the  past;  on  the  other  Is 
the  spirit  of  a  purely  negative  and  destructive  revolu- 
tionism, moral  and  political.  Wherever  either  tendency 
has  secured  even  a  temporary  predominance,  disaster 
national  and  international  has  ensued.  The  only  hope 
of  humanity  would  seem  to  lie  in  the  possibility  of 
a  middle  course  being  found.  Change  is  necessary, 
change  political,  social,  economic,  moral,  and  religious; 
change  in  church  as  well  as  state;  change  far-reaching 
and  revolutionary.  But  a  great  danger  arises  from  the 
fact  that,  goaded  to  passionate  reaction  by  timid  con- 
servatism, by  lack  of  sympathetic  understanding,  or  by 
something  worse  than  this,  on  the  part  of  the  powers 
that  be,  the  forces  which  make  for  change  may  express 
themselves  In  wild,  unreasoning  destruction.  Construc- 
tion is  what  the  world  most  wants,  but  it  must  be  con- 
structive revolution;  and  what  the  Church  too  requires 
is  constructive  revolution.  To  forestall  my  main 
conclusion  —  if  I  investigate  the  attitude  of  Christ 
towards  the  ideals  and  institutions  of  His  day,  I  fmd 
an  outlook  and  approach  strangely  appropriate  to  the 
present  situation.  Christ  was  no  Iconoclast,  no  lover 
of  destruction  for  its  own  sake.  If  half  that  is  said 
of  Bolshevism  is  true,  He  would  not  have  been  a 
Bolshevist;  but  He  was  a  revolutionary.  If  He  said 
that  He  "  came  not  to  destroy  but  to  fulfil,"  He 
quickly  added,  "  It  was  said  to  them  of  old  .  .  .  but 
I  say  unto  you  —  something  very  ditifercnt."  He  saw 
clearly  that,  without  drastic  change,  fulfilment  was 
impossible.  I  lis  interest  was  in  the  creative  and  con- 
structive; but  He  knew,  and  was  prepared  to  pay,  the 
price.      If,  then,  I  call  Him  a  consiructivc  revolution- 


348  THE  SPIRIT  X 

arv,  I  put  the  emphasis  upon  the  adjective,  but  with  no 
intent  to  weaken  the  meaning  of  the  noun. 

TlIF.    CONSKRVATISM    OF    THE    ClIURCH 

If  the  first  three  Gospels  are  read  without  traditional 
preconceptions,  the  truth  of  this  characterisation  will, 
as  I  propose  shortly  to  argue,  become  evident.  But  the 
whole  habit  of  thought  in  the  Churches  is  so  conserva- 
tiv^e  that  it  seems  necessary,  before  doing  this,  to  pause. 
Throughout  Europe  organised  Christianity  is  regarded 
by  reformers  as  the  champion  of  the  obsolete,  whether 
politically,  socially,  or  intellectually.  In  France,  Italy, 
and  Austria  the  Roman  Church  has  been  the  bulwark 
of  reaction,  whether  in  politics  or  in  education.  In 
Russia,  Orthodoxy  and  Autocracy  were  the  twin  pillars 
of  the  old  regime.  In  Prussia,  Christianity  was  openly 
claimed  by  the  Kaiser  as  his  ally  against  democracy. 
And  in  England,  not  the  most  enthusiastic  sons  and 
daughters  of  the  Church  of  which,  in  spite  of  all  its 
failures,  I  am  proud  to  call  myself  a  member  can  claim 
that  it  is  usually  to  be  found  in  the  van  of  progress. 

All  large  and  ancient  institutions  have  a  tendency  to 
settle  down  into  well-worn  grooves.  But  for  the  per- 
sistent association  of  the  name  of  Christ  with  the  Spirit 
of  reaction  —  so  paradoxical  to  the  reader  of  the 
Gospels  —  this  explanation  taken  alone  will  not  suffice. 
Other  and  deeper  causes  must  be  sought.  History 
suggests  two.  First,  the  emphasis  on  the  value  of  tra- 
dition due  to  reaction  against  Gnosticism  and  other 
pagan  influences  in  the  first  four  centuries  A.D.,  which 
were  the  formative  period  of  Christian  doctrine.  Sec- 
ondly, the  position  of  authority  and  the  role  of  con- 
server  of  the  past  which  the  Church  was  called  upon 
to  assume  in  the  reconstruction  of  European  civilisa- 
tion after  the  Germanic  invasions  which  in  the  fifth 
century  crushed  the  western  half  of  the  Roman  Empire. 

In  the  New  Testament  the  main  emphasis  is  on  the 
future;    everywhere    there   is   life   and   growth.     The 


X  CONSTRUCTIVE  REVOLUTION       349 

Spirit  is  thought  of  as  ever  revealing  something  fresh, 
as  continually  guiding  into  all  truth.  But  in  the  third 
century^  the  traditionalist  outlook  triumphs.  Why? 
It  was  a  sound  instinct  of  the  organism  (may  we  not 
say  it  was  for  that  time  the  guidance  of  the  Spirit?) 
that  had  gradually  convinced  that  heterogeneous,  half- 
educated  community  that  its  only  hope  lay  in  clinging 
to  the  tradition  of  a  creative  past.  We  shall  never 
understand  the  Early  Church,  we  shall  never  see  the 
reason  either  of  its  successes  or  its  failures,  unless  we 
clearly  grasp  that  it  was  a  Missionary  Church  —  but 
one  which,  after  the  first  generation,  was  cut  off  from 
its  "  home  base."  The  Jewish  nation,  with  a  tradition 
of  centuries  of  sublime  ethical  monotheism,  and  that 
burnt  into  its  inmost  life  by  heroic  sustainment  of  exile 
and  persecution,  ought  to  have  been  that  "  home  base." 
Had  the  Jews  accepted  Christ  they  would  have  become 
to  the  Graeco-Roman  Empire  what  the  Christian  na- 
tions of  Europe  and  America  have  been  to  the  heathen 
world  in  recent  times.  Generation  after  generation  of 
missionaries,  nurtured  in  the  traditions  of  the  higher 
religion,  would  have  gone  forth  to  guide  the  newly 
founded  Church.  But  the  Jew  rejected  Christ.  Thus 
the  position  of  the  Gentile  Churches  in  the  Roman 
Empire  was  precisely  similar  to  that  in  which  Christian 
missions  in  India  or  China  would  have  found  themselves 
had  they  been  completely  cut  off  from  the  European 
and  American  Churches  within  thirty  years  of  their 
first  foundation  and  left  entirely  to  native  leaders. 
Converts  of  the  first  generation,  however  able,  zealous, 
and  self-sacrificing  they  may  be,  can  never  free  them- 
selves entirely  from  the  associations  ami  ideas  of  the 
pagan  environment.  I  Ionic,  school,  ami  national  cus- 
toms and  literature  necessarily  lca\e  marks  of  oKl  re- 
ligious outlook  and  usage  which  conversion  to  a  new 
faith,  however  sincere,  cannot  at  once  obliterate.      Just 

1  In  "the  faith  once  clt-livcrcfl  ti>  llir  s.iints  "  of  .tu>lc.  .in<l  "  llir  form  of 
Hound  words"  of  the  Kpistlcs  ( prol.alily  not  Rcnuinrly  r.iulinr)  to  I'miothy, 
we  KCt.  even   within  Ihc  New  TesUmcnt,  the  beginnings  of  the   new  attitude. 


350  THE  SPIRIT  x 

as  relics  of  heathen  customs  and  superstitions  crop  up 
in  Christ'in  communities  in  India,  Africa,  or  China, 
so  the  history  of  the  growth  of  Christian  doctrines 
and  instructions  during^  the  first  six  centuries  is  largely 
the  history  of  the  gradual  infiltration  of  Greek,  Roman, 
and  Oriental  ways  of  thought.  Nor  was  the  process, 
as  some  too  hastily  assume,  one  entirely  to  be  regretted. 
From  Roman  statesman,  Greek  philosopher,  and  Ori- 
ental mystic  the  Church  learnt  much  that  was  worth 
learning  as  well  as  much  that  had  better  have  been  un- 
learnt. But  from  the  third  century,  A.D.  the  Graeco- 
Roman  civilisation  was  consciously  decadent.  Science 
was  dead,  education  declining,  art  and  literature  all  but 
stagnant.  Look  about  for  growth  and  you  will  find 
it  —  in  the  spirit  of  superstition  and  despair.  Tn  such 
an  age  it  was  the  salvation  of  the  Church  that,  while 
adventurous  in  practical  experiment,  it  was  conserva- 
tive in  things  of  the  mind.  As  it  was,  alike  in  doctrine, 
ethics,  and  devotion,  Christianity  absorbed  too  much 
from  its  environment.  It  was  preserved  from  a  quite 
fatal  dilution  by  always  looking  back. 

Consider  again  the  situation  that  arose  when,  in  and 
after  the  fifth  century,  fresh  relays  of  barbarians  kept 
pouring  over  the  Alps  and  the  Rhine,  and  the  civilisa- 
tion of  Western  Europe  was  in  ruins.  Whatever  was 
saved  from  the  ruins  was  saved  by  the  Church.  Slowly 
and  painfully  a  new  civilisation  took  its  place.  What 
was  built  up  new  among  the  ruins  was  built  up  under 
the  protection  and  guidance  of  the  Church.  That  is 
the  central  fact  of  European  history.  But  in  that  age 
the  Church  could  only  rebuild  by  pointing  men  to  the 
past.  In  undertaking  this  work  of  reconstruction  the 
Church  was  true  to  the  spirit  of  Jesus.  To  save  and  to 
inspire,  to  restore  and  to  create,  is  to  carry  on  the  work 
of  Christ.  But  —  and  this  is  the  essential  point  —  at 
that  date,  and  under  the  special  circumstances  of  that 
period,  construction  necessarily  entailed  a  moral  and 
intellectual  attitude  towards  the  past  which,  in  so  far 


X  CONSTRUCTIVE  REVOLUTION       351 

as  It  has  lasted  on  beyond  those  special  circumstances, 
Is  alien  to  the  real  genius  of  Christianity. 

First  and  foremost,  what  the  wild  barbarian  then 
needed  was  discipline,  the  habit  of  obedience  to  author- 
ity and  law.  Europe,  like  Israel,  had  need  of  the  Law 
before  It  could  appreciate  the  Gospel.  The  Church, 
therefore,  was  right  in  standing  predominantly  for 
Authority  and  Law — right,  that  Is,  at  that  period  — 
but  in  so  doing  it  lost  sight  of  what  St.  Paul  found  to 
be  the  deepest  thing  in  Christianity:  "  where  the  spirit 
of  the  Lord  is  there  is  liberty." 

Again,  so  long  as  the  Church  was  the  main  conserver 
of  the  broken  fragments  of  a  great  civilisation,  so  long 
as  the  general  level  of  education,  science,  art,  and 
literature  was  far  below  that  of  the  old  Roman  \im- 
plre,  just  so  long  it  seemed  the  function  of  the  builder 
to  preserve,  to  imitate,  to  reproduce  the  past.  So  long 
as  the  Golden  Age  was  really  in  the  past,  the  cause 
of  progress  itself  demanded  an  attitude  of  looking 
backwards.  But  Christ  taught  that  the  Kingdom  of 
Heaven  '  was  yet  to  come. 

In  the  great  period  of  the  Middle  Ages,  the  essen- 
tially pioneering  and  creative  spirit  of  Christianity 
begins  to  find  fuller  expression  —  and  that  not  alone  in 
art  and  architecture.  A  St.  Francis  essays  a  revolu- 
tion In  Christian  ethics;  and  the  line  of  thinkers  from 
Anselm  to  Aquinas  dare  a  "  New  Theology."  I-cw 
but  students  realise  what  Innovators  these  were.  In- 
deed, they  did  not  realise  it  themselves. 

The  Renaissance  of  the  fourteenth  and  fifteenth 
centuries  reinforced  in  a  new  way  the  backward  look  of 
Europe.  The  Church,  to  its  credit,  was  to  the  fore  In 
the  revival  of  learning.  But  learning  meant  the  stuily 
of  the  Humanities,  that  Is,  of  the  great  writers  of  the 
classical  period  of  (ireece  and  Rome;  antl  the  study  of 
the  Humanities  again  implies  a  (jolden  Age  In  a  dls- 

1  I  hold  fh.it,  to  our  Lorti,  the  idci  of  the  Kingdom  of  Heaven  inclinled  the 
corpor.itP  reKincration  of  rociety  on  earth  a*  well  a*  a  life  in  the  world  to 
come.  The  evidence  is,  to  my  mind,  conclusive  againRt  the  view  of  ionie 
recent  icholari  that  it  included  the  latter  only. 


352  THE  SPIRIT  X 

tant  past.  Down  to  very  recent  times,  European  edu- 
cation in  general  had  been,  and  clerical  education  still 
is,  mainly  on  Renaissance  lines.  It  has  tended  to  sug- 
gest, as  the  ideal  of  intellectual  attainment,  acceptance 
and  imitation  rather  than  invention  and  experiment. 

But  to-day,  outside  the  Church,  men  are  looking /or- 
"wards  for  the  Golden  Age.  The  really  live  intellectual 
activity  of  the  present  age  is  not  so  much  conservative 
as  adventurous.  Its  motto  is  not  learning  but  research, 
not  acceptance  but  criticism,  not  imitation  but  inven- 
tion. Experiment  and  fresh  construction  are  the  dom- 
inating ideas,  not  only  in  natural  science  and  engineer- 
ing, but  in  economics,  in  art,  in  philosophy,  and  in  politi- 
cal and  ethical  ideals.  Outside  organised  Christianity 
the  motto  of  the  idealist  in  every  department  of  life  is, 
'*  Behold  I  make  all  things  new."  What  does  this 
mean  but  that  the  Spirit  of  Christ  is  often  to  be  seen 
in  what  is  called  "  the  World  "  more  clearly  than  in 
any  of  those  societies  which  claim  to  be  His  "  Church." 

The  fact  is  one  which  may  be  explained  by  past 
history,  which  may  be  excused  by  human  infirmity.  It 
is  not  one  to  be  acquiesced  In. 

Christ  the  Critic  of  Tradition 

Christ  was  essentially  a  critic  of  tradition,  but  espe- 
cially of  religious  tradition  —  whether  on  its  theolog- 
ical, moral,  or  ecclesiastical  side.  No  small  part  of 
His  recorded  utterances  is  in  critlcsim  of  contemporary 
conceptions  of  the  character  of  God,  of  current  notions 
of  right  conduct,  or  of  that  ecclesiastical  tradition  by 
which  the  word  of  God  was  made  of  none  effect. 
And  It  is  Important  to  notice  that  of  the  Church  He 
was  a  severer  critic  than  of  "  the  World."  He  has 
much  to  say  against  the  Pharisees,  very  little  against 
Herod  or  the  Roman  government  —  though  He  cer- 
tainly did  not  admire  them.^  What  He  most  deplored 
was  the  failure  of  the  religious  —  both  in  regard  to 

1  Luke  xiii.   1-2,  32. 


X  CONSTRUCTIVE  REVOLUTION        353 

teaching  and  to  practice.  Taking  the  commandment, 
''  Love  God,  love  your  neighbour,"  as  the  criterion  of 
true  religion.  He  found  that  the  theologies,  the  moral- 
ities, the  ecclesiastical  ordinances  of  His  time  tended 
to  disguise  and  overlay,  or  even  to  make  impossible, 
the  weightier  matters  of  the  law. 

But  what  Pharisaism  did  for  the  Law  and  the 
Prophets,  traditional  theology  has  done  to  Christ. 
Starting  from  the  assumption  that  His  revelation  of 
the 'Divine  was  final,  it  has  looked  for  the  finality  not 
in  the  spirit  but  In  the  letter.  It  has  failed  to  see  that 
if  Christ  was  the  critic  of  tradition,  then  in  all  ages  the 
spirit  of  Christ  must  impel  men  to  criticise  contempo- 
rary tradition.  His  followers  have  turned  Christ 
Himself  into  a  tradition,  and  those  who  in  His  spirit 
have  criticised  that  tradition  have  been  cast  out.  The 
living  prophets  they  have  stoned  while  rearing  the 
sepulchres  of  the  dead  —  thus  witnessing  to  themselves 
that  they  are  the  true  sons  of  those  that  slew  the 
prophets. 

The  supreme  moral  activities  of  the  modern  world 
have  been  two  —  the  humanitarian  movement,  i.e.  the 
effort  to  realise  in  practice  the  brotherhood  of  man; 
and  the  scientific  passion  of  truth  for  truth's  sake. 
Consider  the  precept,  "  Love  God  and  love  thy  neigh- 
bour," and,  if  I  mistake  not,  it  will  appear  that  in  these 
two  movements  the  best  elements  in  the  modern  world 
outside  the  Churches  have  come  much  nearer  than  most 
of  those  within  towards  realising  its  implications,  and 
therefore  in  applying  the  spirit  of  Christ  to  the  actual 
conditions  of  the  day. 

The  greatest  blot  on  the  history  of  the  Church  in 
modern  times  is  the  fact  that,  with  the  glorious  excep- 
tion of  the  campaign  to  abolish  slavery,  the  leailers  in 
the  social,  political,  and  humanitarian  relorms  of  the 
last  century  and  a  half  in  Europe  have  rarely  been 
professing  Christians;  while  the  authoriseil  representa- 
tives of  organised  Christianity  have,  as  often  as  not. 


354  THE  SPIRIT  x 

heen  on  the  wrong  sicic.  This  indictment,  however, 
is  a  commonphice;  and,  at  any  rate  so  far  as  words  p^o, 
its  justice  is  readily  admitted  by  the  leaders  of  all  the 
Churches  to-dav. 

It  is  conceded  '  that  the  Churches  have  been  back- 
ward to  adapt  the  new  conditions  the  commandment, 
"Love  thy  neighbour."     It  is  less  commonly  recognised 
that  they  have  failed  even  more  conspicuously  in  regard 
to  the  commandment,  "  Thou  shalt  love  the  Lord  thy 
God."      If  God  is  the  source  of  righteousness,  beauty, 
and  truth,  only  he  can  love  God  who  is  also  a  lover  of 
these.     The  Churches  have,  it  must  be  admitted,  never 
tired  in  urging  the  love  of  righteousness  —  though  they 
have  often  taught  that  to  be  righteous  which  manifestly 
is  not.      Some  of  them  in  fame  and  rite  and  hymn  have 
trained  men  to  love  beauty,  but  in  ways  narrow  and 
restricted,  and,  as  time  has  passed,  progressively  more 
conventional.      But  where  do  they  stand  in  regard  to 
the  love  of  truth?     Few  men  have  the  capacity  to  be 
discoverers  in  the  realm  of  knowledge,  and  of  these 
who   have   the   capacity  some   may  properly  put   first 
the  claims  of  other  duties.      But  all  men  can  be  taught 
to  value  truth,  to  see  ignorance,  error,  and  supersti- 
tion, even  though  they  share  them,  as  a  misfortune  of 
the  soul;  and  on  the  most  important  things  of  all  to 
decline  to  be  put  off  with  shams.      Here  certainly  the 
Church  has  failed.      I  may  have  been  unfortunate,  but 
it  is  certainly  the  fact  that  I  have  never  heard  a  single 
sermon  devoted  to  emphasising  the  all-important  fact 
that  the  love  of  truth  is  a  fundamental  element  in  the 
love  of  God. 

The  Churches  have,  it  may  be  readily  conceded, 
never  wanted  persons  convinced  that  they  hold  the 
truth,  and  prepared  if  necessary  to  die  for  it.  The 
fatal  mistake  has  been  to  take  for  granted  that  the 
individual,  or  his  own  section  of  the  Church,  already 
apprehends  all  truth,  or  at  least  all  that  can  be  known 

1  Cf.,   for  instance,   the   recent   Report   of  the   Archbishop's   Committee   on   the 
Church  and  labour. 


X  CONSTRUCTIVE  REVOLUTION        355 

of  truth.  And  this  Is  not  an  Intellectual  but  a  moral 
failure.  In  the  Middle  Ages  such  a  position  was  in- 
telligible. At  that  time  science  and  philosophy,  equally 
with  theology,  were  matters  of  tradition,  to  be  ac- 
cepted on  authority.  When  in  one  sphere  of  knowl- 
edge a  question  could  be  decided  by  a  word  of  Aristotle 
or  Galen,  it  was  reasonable  in  another  sphere  to  take 
as  final  a  text  of  St.  Augustine  or  St.  Paul.  Only  the 
greatness  of  antiquity  was  realised,  not  its  limitations. 
The  indefinite  possibility  of  acquiring;  new  knowledge, 
and  the  fact  that  truth  is  not  won  bv  blind  acceptance  of 
tradition,  but  is  the  reward  of  diligent  and  courageous 
search,  had  not  yet  been  demonstrated  to  the  world. 
Nor  did  the  spectacle  then  obtrude  itself  at  every  turn 
of  men  of  good  will  differing  on  vital  beliefs;  such  men 
in  general  accepted  without  demur  the  rulings  of  a 
Church  whose  intellectual  even  more  than  its  moral 
prestige  was  virtually  unchallenged.  But  for  us  it  is 
a  mockery  to  call  that  a  love  of  truth  which  is  not 
also  a  love  of  the  search  for  truth,  which  does  not 
Include  the  hope  that  more  of  truth  may  be  discovered. 
In  the  Intellectual  as  much  as  In  the  moral  sphere, 
"  I  count  not  myself  yet  to  have  apprehended  "  Is  the 
fitting  attitude  of  the  truly  religious  mind.  To  take 
up  any  other  to-day  implies  some  element  of  moral 
weakness. 

Sometimes  the  claim  to  have  an  exclusive  monopoly 
of  truth  reflects  a  native  arrogance  in  the  individual 
claimant;  more  often  it  expresses  the  corporate  arro- 
gance of  a  Church.  But  arrogance,  as  the  world  has 
learnt  of  late  in  the  sphere  of  world  politics,  is  only  the 
more  harmful  if  it  takes  the  form  of  a  claim  by  a  group 
rather  than  by  an  individual  to  be  in  an  exclusive  sense 
the  chosen  people.  Religious  controversialists  do  not 
realise  how  phrases  like  "  Catholic  truth  "  or  "  Protes- 
tant truth  " —  as  if  truth,  like  sardines,  was  something 
of  which  you  can  have  difierent  brands  —  strike  the 
outsider  as  the  supreme  desecration  of  the  word  truth. 


356  THE  SPIRIT  x 

But  in  most  cases  apparent  arrogance  is  really  doubt 
disguised.  It  results  from  a  timidity  which  dares  not 
face  facts  for  fear  these  facts  should  be  unpleasant  — 
a  timidity  rooted  at  bottom  in  unfaith,  in  an  apprehen- 
sion, unconfessed  even  to  the  man  himself,  that  science 
or  criticism  may  after  all  have  disproved  some  cher- 
ished tenet  of  religion,  or  even  religion  itself.  It  can 
be  justified  only  on  the  theory,  explicit  or  implicit,  that 
human  reason  is  a  trap  set  by  God  for  man  —  a  theory 
degrading  to  our  conception  both  of  God  and  man. 
The  dogmatist  is  own  brother  to  the  sceptic,  and  there 
is  a  deep  pathos  in  the  inner  life  of  many  of  the  most 
blatant  defenders  of  tradition.  The  very  vehemence 
of  their  affirmation  is  the  measure  of  their  secret 
doubts — "  The  lady  protests  too  much  methinks." 

To  love  God  is  to  hate  delusion  and  to  long  to  know 
that  which  really  is.  It  is  to  know  that  reality  is  more 
than  we,  or  our  friends,  can  ever  grasp  completely,  but 
never  to  rest  content  with  what  we  have  as  yet  attained. 
The  love  of  truth  is  perhaps  that  aspect  of  the  love  of 
God  which  is  the  most  completely  disinterested.  "The 
philosopher,"  says  Samuel  Butler,  "  must  be  one  who 
has  left  all,  even  Christ  Himself,  for  Christ's  sake." 
And  those  who  are  prepared,  if  necessary,  to  give  up 
Christ  Himself  for  truth's  sake  will  get  back  more  of 
Christ  than  they  gave  up  —  if  not  in  name  or  in  form, 
at  least  in  the  appropriation  and  inspiration  of  His 
spirit.  Those  many  thousands  who  have  given  up,  not 
only  the  things  of  this  world  but  the  hopes  of  a  world 
to  come,  for  the  sake  of  what  seemed  to  them  to  be  the 
truth,  have  that  spirit.  They  show  a  love  of  God  more 
real  than  those  who  dare  not  put  their  beliefs  to  the 
test  of  inquiry — and  that  even  though  the  actual  con- 
clusions held  by  these  worshippers  of  truth  may  in  the 
long  run  turn  out  to  be  false  and  those  held  by  the 
others  to  be  true.  "  Whosoever  would  save  his  life 
shall  lose  it  "  applies  especially  to  religion  just  because 
that  is  the  very  soul  of  life. 


X  CONSTRUCTIVE  REVOLUTION        357 

But  while  the  world  —  or  rather  its  best  men  — 
have  been  seeking  truth,  the  Church  has  been  interested 
in  defending  tradition,  with  the  result  that  the  intel- 
lectual leadership,  which  in  the  Middle  Ages  belonged 
to  the  Church,  has  passed  to  the  scientist.  And  the 
scientist,  once  outside  the  boundaries  of  his  own  subject 
and  in  the  sphere  of  philosophy  and  ethics,  has  not 
infrequently  led  men  wrong,  to  their  no  small  hurt. 
Yet  for  this  hurt  too  the  Church  is  more  than  half 
responsible,  for  it  has  been  the  attitude  of  the  Church 
towards  the  search  for  truth  that  has,  quite  unneces- 
sarily, made  science  the  traditional  enemy,  and  thereby 
prejudiced  Its  devotees  against  an  impartial  considera- 
tion of  the  truth  for  which  religion  stands. 

I  am  far  from  asserting  that  we  ought  lightly  to  sur- 
render a  formula  or  a  legend  which  has  been  closely 
bound  up  with  sacred  beliefs.  I  am  far  from  saying 
that  a  man  is  not  often  justified  in  clinging  to  moral 
principles  or  fundamental  beliefs  which  he  may  not  be 
able  intellectually  to  defend.  The  intuitions  of  the 
race  and  the  inherited  beliefs  of  the  past  often  rest  on  a 
diffused  experience  and  a  basis  in  reason  which  eludes 
the  grasp  of  the  science  or  philosophy  of  the  day.  It 
is  not  by  the  Church's  tenacious  hold  on  these,  it  is  not 
by  her  fond  clinging  to  hallowed  associations,  that  the 
conscience  of  Europe  has  been  shocked;  that  attitude 
men  respect,  even  when  they  do  not  share  it.  But  it 
has  been  and  is  shocked  by  the  failure  of  the  Church  to 
appreciate  the  supreme  mural  value  of  truth  and  of  the 
search  for  truth;  and  by  the  arrogance,  both  real  and 
seeming,  of  the  dogmatic  temper,  which  it  contrasts 
with  the  humility  of  the  great  scientists.  The  world 
knows,  what  the  Church  has  forgotten,  that  ot  a  gen- 
uine love  of  truth  there  is  only  one  test  —  a  readiness 
to  admit  on  sufficient  proof  that  an  opinion  previously 
lield  may  be  wrong. 

Apohjgists  often  point  out  that  when  a  conllict  has 
arisen  between  traditional  views  and  modern  hypt)th- 


358  THE  SPIRIT  x 

eses,  whether  of  science  or  criticism  or  history,  it  has 
not  infrequently  happened  that  the  traditionahst  has 
ultimately  been  found  in  point  of  fact  to  be  the  nearer 
to  the  truth.  This  may  be  so,  but  it  is  irrelevant. 
The  Church's  attitude  to  truth  has  been  a  moral,  not  an 
intellectual,  failure.  To  be  mistaken  about  a  matter 
of  fact,  or  to  entertain  for  a  time  a  false  hypothesis, 
is  to  be  guilty  of  an  error  which  time  and  further  in- 
quiry will  correct.  Absolute  devotion  to  truth  and 
making  mistakes  about  the  truth  are  quite  compatible. 
Science  often  makes  mistakes.  But  not  to  be  interested 
in  discovering  truth,  to  make  a  virtue  of  the  fact  under 
the  name  of  "  faith,"  worst  of  all,  deliberately  to  sup- 
press one's  interest,  under  the  name  of  "  the  sacrifice 
of  the  reason  "  or  "  the  asceticism  of  the  intellect,"  is 
(for  those  who  have  the  requisite  mental  capacity  and 
training)  openly  to  renounce  obedience  to  the  com- 
mandment, "  Thou  shalt  love  the  Lord  thy  God  with 
all  thy  mind."  Nothing  is  nobler  than  the  impulse 
which  moves  man  to  offer  up  his  best  and  dearest  to  his 
God,  nothing  more  pathetic  than  the  delusion  that  he 
must  first  slay  the  thing  he  offers  —  whether  it  be  his 
first-born  in  the  flames  of  Moloch  or  his  reason  at  the 
altar  of  Christ. 

To  a  God  really  worthy  of  man's  worship  only  that 
sacrifice  of  the  reason  can  be  pleasing  which  consists, 
not  in  its  stultification,  but  in  its  devotion  to  the  eluci- 
dation of  truth.  And  this  will  often  be  a  painful 
sacrifice.  To  pass  out  from  the  cosy  fireside  of  a  dog- 
matic faith  into  the  cold  blasts  of  criticism  and  science; 
to  put  to  the  test  of  real  inquiry  beliefs  without  which 
life  does  not  seem  worth  living;  to  apply  the  knife 
where  one  suspects  a  tumour  even  if  it  touch  the  heart 
—  this  is  the  "  asceticism  of  the  intellect  "  that  is  re- 
quired of  our  age;  this  for  us  is  the  strait  gate  and  nar- 
row way  which  leadeth  unto  life.  "  You  have  learnt 
something,"  says  Bernard  Shaw,  "  that  always  feels  at 
first  as  if  you  had  lost  something."      But  in  the  end 


X  CONSTRUCTIVE  REVOLUTION        359 

there    Is    gain  —  gain    for    the    seeker,    gain    for    the 
Church. 

During  the  last  half-century  there  has  been  real 
advance  among  the  leaders  of  the  Churches  in  the 
recognition  of  the  moral  and  religious  value  of  the 
scientific  temper.  But  these  gains  have  been  largely 
forfeited  through  lack,  of  courage  in  many  of  those  who 
do  realise  the  need  for  change,  but  hesitate  to  apply 
their  knowledge  in  popular  religious  teaching.  Plain 
speaking,  they  fear,  might  upset  old  people;  it  might 
unsettle  young  people ;  It  might  offend  the  rich ;  It  might 
dicturb  the  poor.  But  granted  an  element  of  risk, 
granted  that  tact,  discretion,  and  moderation  are  vir- 
tues, and  even  characteristically  Christian  virtues,  still 
they  are  not  the  only  virtues.  From  the  way  many 
people  talk  one  might  suppose  that  the  injunction 
against  offending  the  weaker  brother  was  the  one  which 
is  styled  "  the  first  and  great  commandment."  When 
I  read  the  Gospels  and  recollect  that  the  Pharisees  were 
"  the  religious  public  "  of  the  day,  I  am  often  surprised 
to  find  how  little  careful  Christ  seems  to  have  been 
about  shocking  what  a  lady,  writing  to  The  Challenge 
lately,  called  "  the  just  susceptibilities  of  religious  peo- 
ple." Indeed,  I  must  frankly  admit  that  the  one  ob- 
jection to  the  belief  that  He  was  morally  perfect  which 
I  have  found  it  difficult  to  meet.  Is  derived  from  the 
apparently  exaggerated  scxcrlty  of  Mis  language  to 
and  about  the  Pharisees,  who,  with  all  their  limitations, 
undoubtedly  stood,  as  a  body,  for  religious  earnestness 
and  self-sacrifice.  Recent  research  has  made  It  evi- 
dent that  —  whatever  the  shortcomings  of  individuals 
—  the  Pharisees  as  a  whole  were  conspicuous  tor  re- 
ligious zeal  ami  earnestness.  It  may  be  that  in  the 
(jospcl  tradition  our  Lord's  antipathy  towartis  them 
has  been  exaggerated;  personally  I  think  It  has  been, 
but  It  cannot  iiave  been  altogether  Inventcil.  It  is  at 
least  cv  ident  that  the  "  huminig  "  of  which  1  \c  accused 
them  lay,  not  so  much  in  the  insincerity,  as  in  the  futil- 


36o  THK  SPIRIT  x 

ity  of  their  beliefs.  Not  otherwise  Plato  deemed  the 
unconscious  "  lie  in  the  soul,"  that  inability  to  recog- 
nise the  good  and  true  which  misleads  the  man  himself, 
worse  than  the  conscious  verbal  lie  which  is  meant  to 
mislead  others.  Truly  a  hard  saying;  but  Christ  and 
Plato  here  seem  to  concur  that,  not  sins  committed,  but 
false  values  and  ideals  are  the  worst  peril  of  the  soul. 

A  fruit  tree  w'ill  bear  no  fruit  unless  it  be  occasionally 
pruned,  and  progress  is  impossible  without  a  painful 
disturbance  of  cherished  and  accepted  customs,  institu- 
tions, and  beliefs.  That  is  why  the  age-long  passion  of 
India  for  religion  has  produced  results  so  dispropor- 
tionate to  its  longing.  Prophet  after  prophet  there 
has  seen  high  visions,  but  there  has  been  lacking  the 
Elijah  and  Josiah  to  make  a  clean  sweep  of  evil  custom 
and  ancient  superstition.  The  Reformation,  with  all 
its  crimes  and  limitations,  did  that  for  Europe;  but  in 
India  the  good  seed  has  been  choked  by  the  thorns 
among  which  it  has  been  sown.  Half-truths  are  a 
stage  on  the  road  to  truths,  good  laws  a  stage  on  the 
road  to  better;  but  once  that  stage  is  past,  half-truths 
become  deadly  errors,  and  the  good  is  the  worst  enemy 
of  the  best.  Christ  had  the  courage  to  recognise,  the 
courage  to  proclaim,  this  fact.  "  Destroy  this  temple, 
and  in  three  days  I  will  raise  it  up."  "  Ye  have  heard 
that  it  was  said  of  them  of  old  .  .  .  but  I  say  unto 
you.  .  .  ."  Think  what  the  Temple  meant  to  a  Jew, 
think  what  the  Law,  and  you  will  realise  —  or  rather 
you  may  dimly  guess,  no  one  born  out  of  Jerusalem 
could  fully  realise  —  the  revolutionary,  the  iconoclastic 
ring  which  sayings  like  these  had  for  His  contempora- 
ries. By  the  side  of  them  the  programmes  of  our  mod- 
ern leaders  seem  tinkering  timidities. 

Christ  as  Constructive  Thinker 

The  amount  of  concentrated  constructive  thinking 
that  lies  behind  the  sayings  of  our  Lord  is  commonly 


X  CONSTRUCTIVE  REVOLUTION        361 

overlooked.  Their  brevity,  their  simplicitv,  their  lu- 
cidity, and  the  fact  that  most  of  them  read  like  obiter 
dicta,  disguise  the  hard  thinking  they  imply  from  unre- 
flective  readers  —  but  only  from  the  unreflective. 
Many  folk  are  impressed  by  obscurity  and  elaboration, 
but  these  are  reallv  either  a  substitute  for  thouo-ht  or 
an  evidence  that  the  matter  treated  has  not  been 
thought  right  out.  Where  the  matter  does  not  admit 
of  exact  expression  the  real  thinker  knows  it.  He 
ceases  to  define  and  tries  rather  to  suggest  a  meaning; 
so  Plato  in  his  myths,  and  all  the  poets.  Of  course 
where  trivialities  only  are  concerned,  or  where  deep 
things  are  dealt  with  in  superficial  ways,  a  cheap  epi- 
gram is  easy.  But  wherever  the  thought  is  admittedly 
profound,  terseness  and  lucidity  of  expression  are  a  test 
of  intensity  and  clearness  of  thinking.  No  really  val- 
uable idea  can  be  "  put  into  a  nutshell  "  unless  the  mat- 
ter it  deals  with  has  been  the  subject  of  prolonged  med- 
itation. He  knew  what  he  was  talking  about  who  said, 
"  I  wrote  a  long  book  because  I  hadn't  time  to  write  a 
short  one." 

Consider,  again,  the  relation  of  Christ's  teaching  to 
earlier  Hebrew  thought.  In  Jewish  religious  tradition 
we  can  distinguish,  in  the  main,  five  different  strains. 
There  is  the  Law  —  at  its  best  in  Deuteronomy,  where 
law  becomes  less  code  than  a  call  to  personal  service. 
There  are  the  Prophets,  with  their  passion  for  social 
righteousness,  their  indifference  to  ritual  requirement, 
their  conviction  of  man's  responsibility  to  God,  and 
their  concentration  on  His  moral  attributes.  There  is 
the  Wisdom  literature,  with  its  sober,  practical  idealism 
directed  towards  the  problems  of  everyday  life.  There 
is  the  intense  personal  religion  of  the  Psalms,  with  their 
note  of  absolute  trust  in  the  goodness  of  (Jod  and  His 
power  to  heal  and  save.  Latest  of  all  —  most  of  it, 
except  for  the  book  of  Daniel,  too  late  to  be  included 
in  the  canon  —  is  .ApocaU  jitlc,  in  form  fantastic,  in 
spirit  inferior  to  the  direct  ethical  simplicity  ol  the  old 


362  TMK  SPIRIT  X 

prophecy,  but  enriched  with  the  new  vision  of  the  resur- 
rection of  the  dead  and  the  Hfe  of  the  world  to  come. 
Each  of  these  made  its  distinctive  and  characteristic 
contribution  to  religion. 

From  the  study  of  these  turn  to  the  sayings  of  Christ, 
and  note  the  appropriation  of  all  that  is  best  in  each, 
combined  with  a  rejection  of  whatever  in  any  of  them  is 
of  inferior  value.  He  shows  not  only  the  courage  to 
reject  tradition  when  it  is  wrong,  but  the  insight  to  re- 
affirm it  when  it  is  right.  Yet  His  teaching  is  not  a 
kind  of  Horilegium  of  the  Old  Testament;  it  is  no  mere 
collection  of  undigested  tit-bits;  it  is  a  fresh  creative 
synthesis.  Like  the  wise  scribe  that  He  spoke  of.  He 
brings  out  of  His  treasury  things  new  and  old.  But 
they  are  not  just  brought  out,  and  left  at  that;  they  are 
fused  into  a  new  and  coherent  philosophy  of  life, 
thought  out  from  first  principles,  clearly  grasped  and 
thoroughly  applied.  They  form  a  positive  and  con- 
structive statement  of  religious  and  ethical  outlook 
unique  in  the  history  of  human  thought. 

It  is  worth  while  to  point  the  contrast  between  this 
thorough  and  thought-out  method  of  approaching  tra- 
ditional ideas  and  two  elements  in  our  contemporary 
acceptation  of  Christianity. 

(i)  Good  intentions,  or  the  uncriticised  dictates  of 
the  individual  conscience,  are  commonly  held  to  dis- 
pense with  the  need  of  thought  on  moral  issues.  So 
long  as  a  person  is  striving  vigorously  to  live  up  to  the 
accepted  ideal  which  in  his  own  particular  coterie  or  set 
is  labelled  Christian,  he  is  supposed  to  be  dispensed 
from  asking  the  previous  question  whether  or  not  this 
ideal  really  is  in  accordance  with  the  mind  of  Christ. 
Some  one  once  said  to  a  friend,  "  So-and-so  is  a  very 
good  man  but  very  narrow."  His  friend  replied,  "  If 
goodness  means  in  the  last  resort  God-likeness,  can  a 
person  be  narrow  and  also  good?"  It  is  often  sup- 
posed that,  provided  you  work  hard  and  are  sincere,  it 


X  CONSTRUCTIVE  REVOLUTION        363 

does  not  matter  whether  the  cause  you  work,  for  Is  the 
best;  and  that  if  you  are  prepared  to  sacrifice  yourself 
for  an  ideal,  it  does  not  matter  much  how  distorted  the 
ideal.  Bishops  may  be  heard  deploring  the  narrow- 
minded  fanaticism  of  some  incumbent,  but  excusing  or 
even  commending  him  on  the  ground  that  "  he  is  such  a 
good  worker."  I  wonder  if  it  ever  occurs  to  them  to 
ask  whether  such  men  existed  in  our  Lord's  time  and 
what  He  thought  about  them.  The  blind  guides  who 
held  up  false  ideals,  but  conscientious  traditionalists 
who  took  away  the  key  of  the  Kingdom  of  Heaven, 
were  not  excused  by  Him  because  they  acted  in  accord- 
ance with  their  conscience  or  because  they  were  ani- 
mated by  the  best  intentions.  And  the  results  of  the 
heroic  efforts  of  some  "  who  compassed  sea  and  land 
to  make  one  proselyte  "  are  characterised  by  Him  in 
language  which  suggests  that  it  is  not  always  a  suffi- 
ciently extenuating  circumstance  to  be  "  one  of  the  hard- 
est workers  in  the  diocese." 

(2)  At  the  present  time  there  is  nothing  which  is 
more  needed  than  a  body  of  sane,  clear-headed  idealists 
to  think  out  and  offer  to  the  world  a  constructive  lead 
on  the  moral,  social,  and  political  problems  of  the  day. 
For  example,  everybody  feels  that  the  industrial  revo- 
lution and  the  elaborate  State  organisation  of  the  mod- 
ern world  has  presented  the  problem  of  the  relation  of 
rich, and  poor,  and  of  employer  and  employed,  in  a 
wholly  new  form.  The  Churches,  to  their  credit  be  it 
said,  ha\c  never  forgotten  the  claims  of  the  sick  and 
needy.  They  have  worked,  they  have  prayed,  they 
have  paid;  they  have  done  everything  but  think  —  but 
maybe  that  was  the  one  thing  needful.  Methods  of 
dealing  with  poverty  or  sickness  which  were  most  ap- 
propriate in  Palestine  or  (Jrcece  two  thousand  years 
ago  are  not  likely  to  be  adequate  to-day.  But,  with 
some  consjiicuous  but  relatively  few  exceptions,  the 
Church  has  left  it  to  f)rganisations  like  the  I'aliian  So- 
ciety to  do  their  thinking  for  them,  ami,  it  not  to  find 


364  THE  SPIRIT  X 

solutions,  at  any  rate  to  he  foremost  In  the  search  for 
them. 

Take,  again,  the  various  prohlems  relating  to  sex 
■ —  the  position  of  women  in  general,  the  control  of  the 
birth-rate,  prostitution,  venereal  disease.  Not  only 
the  present  but  the  future  welfare  of  humanitv  depends 
on  looking  these  questions  squarely  in  the  face;  on  first 
finding  and  then  applying  the  right  solutions.  Here, 
if  anywhere,  is  a  field  where  the  Churches  might  have 
been  expected  to  give  a  lead.  If  sexual  relations  are 
outside  their  province,  there  is  not  much  left  inside. 
Here,  again,  it  is  not  "  good  intentions  "  but  intelli- 
gence that  is  to  seek.  Immense  and  undoubtedly  well- 
meaning  effort  has  been  put  into  a  blind  defence  of 
ecclesiastical  tradition,  to  preclude  any  reconsideration 
of  the  conditions  of  divorce  or  to  prevent  marriage 
with  a  deceased  wife's  sister.  To  the  solution  of  the 
really  burning  problems  the  one  outstanding  contribu- 
tion which  what  is  known  as  specifically  Christian  public 
opinion  has  made,  has  been  an  organised  conspiracy  to 
ignore  their  existence.  In  religious  circles  thorough 
and  constructive  discussion  of  them  has  been  boycotted 
In  the  name  of  decency;  and  this  attitude,  more  than 
anything  else,  has  retarded  the  possibility  of  discover- 
ing the  right  solutions.  "  To  the  pure  all  things  are 
pure."  Plain  speaking  need  not  be  coarse  speaking  — 
indeed,  a  really  Christian  outlook  naturally  expresses 
Itself  with  simplicity  and  good  taste.  It  Is  subterfuge 
and  innuendo,  not  direct  speaking,  that  implies  and  en- 
courages the  prurient  mind.  In  recent  years  much  has 
been  done  to  break  down  this  conspiracy  of  silence, 
and  to  force  public  opinion  to  face  these  questions. 
But  this  has  been  mainly  accomplished,  in  spite 
of  the  shocked  opposition  of  the  religious,*  by  free 
lances  like  Mrs.  Josephine  Butler,  or,  more  recently, 
by  acutely  unecclesiastical  writers  like  Mr.  Bernard 
Shaw. 

1  Cf.  Life  of  Josephine  Butler,  p.   55. 


X  CONSTRUCTIVE  REVOLUTION        365 

Christ  and  the  Church  of  His  Day 

Our  Lord's  attitude  towards  the  religious  body  of 
which  He  was  a  member  w^ill  become  clearer  if  we  re- 
mind ourselves  that  the  Jewish  people  at  that  date  was 
a  community  approximating  more  nearly  to  what  we 
now  call  a  Church  than  to  what  we  call  a  State.  As  the 
result,  partly  of  the  Exile,  but  still  more  of  the  subse- 
quent city-building  of  the  successors  of  Alexander  the 
Great,  the  Jews  had  ceased  to  have  an  independent  na- 
tional existence,  but  had  become  something  like  an  in- 
ternational brotherhood  having  branches  in  every  im- 
portant city  in  the  Roman  and  Parthian  Empires. 
They  no  longer  even  spoke  one  common  language,  and 
were  held  together  by  a  bond  which,  though  nominally 
racial,  was  actually  religious,  since  in  every  generation 
any  who  ceased  to  believe  or  practise  the  religion  be- 
came assimilated  to  the  surrounding  peoples,  while  nu- 
merous proselytes,  attracted  by  the  religion,  became  in- 
corporated as  members  of  the  chosen  people.  Hence, 
though  still  based  mainly  upon  race,  the  community  had 
become  in  essence  and  idea  less  of  a  nation  than  a 
Church. 

What,  then,  was  our  Lord's  attitude  towards  this 
Church? 

A  certain  man  had  a  fig  tree  planted  in  his  vineyard ;  and  he 
came  and  sought  fruit  thereon,  and  found  none.  Then  said  he 
unto  the  dresser  of  his  vineyard,  Behold,  these  three  years  I 
come  seeking  fruit  on  this  fig  tree,  and  find  none:  cut  it  down: 
why  cunibereth  it  the  ground  ?  And  he  answering  said  unto 
him,  Lord,  let  it  alone  this  year  also,  till  I  shall  dig  about  it, 
and  dung  it.  And  if  it  hear  fruit,  well:  and  it  not,  then  after 
that  thou  shah  cut  it  down.^ 

The  axe  is  laid  unto  the  root  of  the  tree.  Time  — 
but  only  a  short  time  —  will  be  given  for  amcndnicnt. 
At  present  "  it  cumbcrcth  the  ground,"  but  there  is  still 
hope. 

2  Luke  xiii.   6-9. 


:,GG  THE  SPI RTF  x 

This  was  His  jud*i;ment.  But  it  was  one  to  which 
He  had  come,  not  willingly,  but  with  infinite  regret. 

And  when  he  was  come  near,  he  beheld  the  city,  and  wept 
over  it,  sayinp;.  If  thou  hadst  known,  even  thou,  at  least  in 
this  thy  day,  the  things  which  belong  unto  thy  peace!  but  now 
they  are  hid  from  thine  eyes.^ 

O  Jerusalem,  Jerusalem,  which  killcst  the  prophets,  and 
stonest  them  that  are  sent  unto  thee;  how  often  would  I  have 
gathered  thy  children  together,  as  a  hen  doth  gather  her  brood 
under  her  wings,  and  ye  would  not!  ^ 

And  what  other  view  can  the  Spirit  of  Christ  suggest 
to  us  to-day?  We,  too,  can  look  back  with  pride  and 
affection  on  a  great  inheritance,  on  a  past  which  is  elo- 
quent to  us,  through  religious  monuments  like  our  great 
Cathedrals,  or  the  Book  of  Common  Prayer,  or  in  that 
tradition  of  civil  and  religious  liberty  and  pure  family 
life  to  which  Puritanism  has  contributed  so  much.  Yet 
only  the  purblind  can  fall  to  see  that,  while  we  have 
been  pondering  on  a  mighty  past,  the  present  has  been 
slipping  away  from  us,  and  the  Kingdom  is  passing 
away  from  the  Church,  as  of  old  It  passed  from  the 
Jews  to  "  a  nation  bringing  forth  the  fruits  thereof." 

What,  then,  should  be  our  attitude  towards  the  His- 
toric Church?  The  axe  is  laid  at  the  root  of  the  tree; 
the  year  is  given  to  dig  and  to  tend.  There  are  many 
of  the  younger  generation  who  think  that  the  sentence 
of  final  condemnation  has  been  already  spoken,  that 
men  of  good  will  had  best  leave  the  organised  Churches 
to  perish  gently  of  senile  decay,  while  they  themselves 
seek  ampler  opportunity  to  carry  on  the  Master's  work 
outside.  My  own  judgment  Is  otherwise.  I  hope  and 
believe  that  Jerusalem,  even  In  this  her  hour,  will  recog- 
nise the  things  which  belong  to  her  peace,  and  that  the 
Christian  Church  to-day,  unlike  the  Jewish  Church  of 
old,  may  have  the  Insight  and  the  courage  to  face  that 
Constructive    Revolution  —  in   theology,   in    forms   of 

1  Luke  xix.   41-42.  2  Luke  xiii.   34. 


X  CONSTRUCTIVE  REVOLUTION       367 

worship,  in  organisation,  in  practical  activity'  — 
through  which  alone  it  can  realise  its  destiny  in  the  up- 
lifting of  mankind. 

There  has  come  upon  the  world  a  supreme  crisis,  a 
crisis  clamorous  with  the  need  for  reconstruction  —  re- 
construction all  along  the  line,  political,  social,  moral, 
religious.  The  world  is  looking  for  guidance;  but  the 
guide  must  be  one  who  has  the  courage  to  discard  what 
is  obsolete  and  the  insight  to  create  what  Is  new.  It  is 
looking  for  the  guidance  of  the  Constructive  Revolu- 
tionary. I  have  tried  to  show  that  this  is  precisely  the 
kind  of  guidance  given  by  our  Lord.  The  Church 
claims  to  be  a  body  inspired  by  the  Holy  Spirit.  What 
is  this  Holy  Spirit?  It  is  no  other  than  the  spirit  man- 
ifested in  the  life  of  Christ.  If  Christ,  I  reiterate.  Is 
our  portrait  of  the  Father,  He  Is  no  less  our  portrait 
of  the  Holy  Ghost.  We  have  seen  how  the  character- 
istic expression  of  the  Spirit  as  seen  in  His  life  Is  con- 
structive thought  and  creative  effort.  The  idea  Is  not 
new,  but  It  has  never  been  worked  out.  Creator  Spir- 
itus  is  no  modern  title,  but  it  answers  to  a  most  modern 
need.  Man  and  his  civilisations  have  always  needed 
re-creation,  but  other  ages  have  been  barely  conscious 
of  their  lack.  We  know  our  need.  That  is  a  new  fact 
in  human  history.  To-day  every  one  Is  crying  out  for 
reconstruction:  some  In  hope,  others  In  despair;  all  are 
crying  out  for  the  creative  spirit.  And  this,  if  only  we 
will  see  It,  Is  the  spirit  manifested  In  the  life  of  Christ. 

Ven'i  Creator  Spiritus. 


INDEX 


Absolute,  the,   288 

Absolution,    Confession    and,    258,    263 

Action.     See   also   Language 

action   when   words   fail,   232 

art  the  language  of  action,   233 
Agape  — 

the  best  gift  of  the   Spirit,   127 

the   Agape,    139 
Animals,   312 

without  language,   316 
Anthropomorphism,    117 
Antichrist,  251 
Apostles,  the,   121 
Apostolic    Succession,   the,    168 
Archbishop's    Committee,    354  «■ 
Arianism,    9 

in    popular   Christianity,    10 
Art,   233,    3'6 

conflict  between  art  and  science,  281 

supreme  value  of  a  work  of  art,  298 
Articles,    the   Thirty-nine— 

Article  XIII.,   i73,   >8i 
Atheism,    53 
Atonement,   the  — 

forensic   theories   of,    11 

fear   of  belittling,   245 
Authority  — 

external   infallible   authority,   211 

Baptism.    171,    246,    2s-  258 

the    Baptism    of    Jesus,    123 «. 

a   baptism    described,    252 

infant   baptism,   255,    257 
Baptists,   258 
Beauty,    311 

religion   of   beauty,   6 

the    personal    beauty    of   nature,   288 

beauty    terrible,    301 

functional,   332 
Benediction  — 

the   Apostolic,    13s 
Body,   the  — 

always  a  transient  vehicle  of   spirit, 

24s 
Business,   men   of,   ^92 

Calculators,  boy   calculators,   202 
Causation,  321,  322 

causation  the  universal  teen  as  com- 
pultion,  323 


Ceremonial  — 

Christian    ceremonial,   246,    257,    265 
of  the  Latin   Mass,   248,   269 
Roman   Catholic,   267 

Christ  — 

Birth  and  Resurrection  of,  29,  33 
Christ     and     the     mystery     of     the 

Kingdom,   64 
inspiration   in,   216 
His   teaching   on    faith,   272 
not    in    the    past   but    in    the   future, 

273 

the  Galilaean,   287,  288 

rejection  of,  301 

the   portrait   of  the   Spirit,   345 

a    revolutionary,    347 

the   critic   of   tradition,   352 

Christ   and    Bolshevism,    347 

See    also    Jesus,    Church,    Kingdom 
of   Heaven,    Eucharist 
Christianity  — 

must   be   progressive,   346 

contemporary         Christianity         and 
Christ,    352 

popular   Christianity,    10 
Church,    the  — 

inspiration    of,    59 

birth   of,    115 

at   Pentecost,    129 

not   at   first   an    institution,    130 

its    organisation,    148,    149 

church    buildings,    266 

Conservatism    of,    348 

Christ  and   the   Church  of  His  day, 

365 
Coherence,   329 
Communion,    Holy,    162 

Communion    service,    263 
Communion  — 

with   God,   210,    215 

with  a  higher  power,  209 
Community,    the,    212 

small     community     of     select     souU, 

Concepts,    mathcm.itical,    326 
Concursui    dei,    15 
Confession,    258-262 
Congianum,    191 
Continuity  — 
of  grace,   178 


369 


370 


INDEX 


Conversion,    177,    178 

psychological    analysis   of,    203 
Creation  — 

meaning  of,    16,    17 
Criminal,  the,   328 
Criterion  — 

of   revelation,  202 

of  truth,  202 

Deism,   s 
Discovery  — 

discovery    or    revelation,     no,     197, 

199 
distinjaiished     from     revelation     by 

Hamilton,    198 
discovery   of  Jesus,  63 
Docctic  heresy,  313 

Egotism  — 

extreme   form   of,   327 
Esprit  de  corf's,   302 
Eucharist,   the,    162,    188,   262,  245 

institution    of,    165 
Evolution,   3 JO,   331,   337 
Experience  — 

religious,   6,   209 

supernatural      or      miraculous      reli- 
gious experience,   26 

religious   experience   as   natural,   33 

psychological    aspect   of,    34,    35 

as  evidence   of   God's  action   in   the 
world,    49 

of  God,   215 

two  kinds  of   experience,   277 

spiritual    experience,    295,    296,    303, 

304 

spiritual     experience     of     the     bore, 
298 
Explanation  — 

psychological    explanation,     187,    213 
248 
Expression,   297 

expression    necessary    to    the    devel- 
opment  of   the   soul,   226 

in   religion,   235 

Fairy    angel,    282,    283 

Christ   and    the,    289 
Faith  — 

Christ's   teaching   on,    272 
Fall,    the.     See   Grace 
Fatigue  — 

nerve   fatigue,   68,   69 

causes  of,   74 

forms   of,    79-82 
Fellowship,  the,    133 

fellowship  with   God,   179 


Fellowship    {contd.) — 

with   the   Spirit,   213 

Christian   ideal   of,   226 

Sec   also    Solitude,    Koinonia 
I'irst  Cause,   12 
I'lags,   237 
Freedom  — 

and    problem    of   creation,    18 
Free-will  — 

and   grace,    181 

Glossolalia,    123,    124 
God  — 

difference      between      Jewish      and 
Christian    doctrine    of,    8 

"  the  second  God,"  9 

the  Wisdom  of  God  in  Apocrypha,  9 

as   ground   of   the   Universe,    13 

and   the   world,   15,   33,   50 

action   of,   28,    117 

holiness  of,    117 

in    the   order   of  nature,   215 

communion   with,   230 

as    Judge,     261 

the  God   of  the   poet,   288 

lunatic     supposing     himself     to     be 
God,   327 

lover   as  well   as  artist,   335 
Good  — 

good   the  scent  of   our  own   future, 
336 
Gothic    architecture,    266 

imitation    Gothic,   288 
Grace  — 

analogies  of,  157,  158,  176,  195 

grace   personal,    160 

artificial    ideas   of,    160 

regarded  as  sui  generis,   160,   182 

doctrine     of     grace     (Roman     Cath- 
olic),   160  «.,    182  n.,    184  n. 

thought    of   as   a   special    force,    169, 
186 

uniqueness  of,    174 

grace  and    nature,    175 

withdrawn    at   the    Fall,    177 

catastrophic  element  in,   178,  180 

continuity   of,    178,    180 

and    free-will,    181 

as    the    undeserved    favour   of   God, 
183 

kinds   of,    181 

legalistic  view  of,    186 

meaning   of   grace   in   the   New   Tes- 
tament,   1B9,    190 

Hymns,    Ancient    and    Modern,    284 
Hypnosis,  69,    74,   250 


INDEX 


371 


Illusion.     See    Scepticism,    also    321 
Immanence,    i 

in     Stoic     philosophy     and     Athana- 
sius,    10 

of    the    Creative    Spirit,    19 

and   transcendence,    21 

Divine   immanence   in    Nature,    108 
Immortality  — 

belief  in,  201 
Incarnation,    the,   6,    10 
India,   360 

Infallibility,   verbal,    197 
Inspiration,   36,  44 

of  the  Church,   60 

in  Old   Testament,    118 

of   persons,   not  books,    J  95 

criterion   of,    197,   211 

in    Christ,   216,   217 

in  the  ordinary  man,   218,  219 

unexplained   factor  in,   213,   214 
Instincts,   the,   85-92 

the   conflict    of,    9^-94 

conversion   of,  94-100 
Intelligence,    321.     See   also    Reason 

Jesus  — 

the  historic,   346 

the  Baptism  of,  123  «. 

See   also   Christ 
Judaism,    172 

Kingdom    of    Heaven,    289,    290.    291, 

302.   351  »• 
Koinonia,   the,    132,    133,    134,    138 
the  organ  of  spiritual  insight,   141 
results  of,   141-150 

Language,  223-226 

necessary   for  progress,  228 
language   of   action,   232-233 
language  of   action   in    religion,   236, 

239 
sacramental  language,  246 

Law,  261 
Liberalilas,    191 
"  Lie  in  the  soul,"  360 
Loaf,   the,    138 
Logos,   the  — 

history  of  the  doctrine  of,   17S 

See  alio  Word 

Magic,  in  time  of  Christ,  272 
Manichzan     teaching,     i7-'i     288,     289, 

Mam.    the,    262,    269.     See   alio   Cere- 
monial 


Mathematics,  324,   325,   326.     See  also 

Calculators 
Matter,   309,   310 
Mediocrity,    289 
Merit  — 

supposed  to  be  acquired  by  going  to 
church,   297 
Metaphysics,  310 
Middle  Ages,  the,   353.  357 
Mind,  the  modern,    10,  334 
Miracle,  29 

subordinate  position  of  miracles,  126 
Monotheism  — 

Hebrew,    6,    198 

its   supposed   uniqueness,    199 
Music,   280,   289,   29s,   328 

analogy   of   conductor,    157,    167 

See  also   Schubert,   Beethoven 
Mystery  — 

of   the   Kingdom,   64 

in   St.    Paul,    135,    136 

mystery    religions,    241,    268 
Mysticism,    209 

"  Pauline  mysticism,"    145 

of    Plotinus,    230 
Myths,    277 

misunderstood,   281 

Nationalism  — 

in  Jewish   religion,  8 
Nature,  337 

"  the   religion    of,"   6 

"  laws  of,"   27 

in   Anglican    Church   Catechism,    171 

in  New  Testament,   171 

and  grace,    175 

beauty   of,  285 
New   Theology  — 

in   Middle   Ages,  351 

"Otherness,"    207,   210,   216 
Oxyrhyiichus   Logia,   264 

Paganism,  285 

Christ  and,  291 
Pantheism,   4 

the   UiRlier   Pantheism,  4 
Particulars,  315.  3»8 
Paulicians,    139  »•• 
Pentecost,   in,    ns.   "^o 

a  modern   Pentecost,   iSO-'53.    '57 
Perception,   313.   3' 5 
Personal,  the,  277,  280,  281,  305 
Personality  — 

in   God,    162,    19s 

reality    of,    340 

enhancement  of  the,  158 


372 


INDEX 


riiarisees,   the,   291,   352,   359 

rhilosoplicrs,   319 

Toetry,   23J,   233 

Power,  III,  68,  passim 

Prayer.  47,  48,   258 

Preachers,   290,   291,  292,   296 

Presbyterian  t'oniniunion  service,  262  f». 

Private   property,    153 

Prophets,    the    Hebrew,    202,    207 

monotheism    of,    201 

experience   of,   201,   202 

and  mystics,  209 
Proverbs,   229,   230,   244 
Psycho-analysis,    258 
Psychology  — 

as   reconciling   science   and    religion, 
1 12 

its  analysis  of  conversion,  203 

"  crowd  "   psychologrj',   J29 
Psychotherapy,    no,    158  n.,   259 
Puritanism,  366 

Quakers,   257,   258 

Real   Presence,   263 
Reality,   303,   314 

not   two   kinds   of,   313 
Reason,  320 

"  the   sacrifice  of  the,"   358 

See  also  Intelligence 
Reconciliation  — 

miracle  of,    13s 
Reformation,  the,  360 
Relics,    165,    166 
Religion  — 

language   of  action   in,   239 
Renaissance,   351 
Revelation,   210 

"  Revelation  "      and      "  revelation," 
199 
Revolution,    347 
Rhythm,   265 
Righteousness,  312 

Sacraments,  the,  240,  242,  243 
Salvation  Army,  the,   124 
Savages,   238 

Scepticism,    304,    305.     See    Illusion 
Sciences,   the   natural,   328 
Scripture  — 

idea  of  verbal  infallibility  of,   199 
Old   Testament,   sublimity   of,   6 
Spirit  in,  1 18 
the   Psalms,    8 
the   23rd   Psalm,   37 
New  Testament  — 
experience  of  power  in,   1 1 1 


Scripture,    New    Testament    (contd.)  — 
ethical   significance  of  holiness  in, 

119 
grace   in,    189-19 1 
nature   in,    171,    172 
emphasis  on   the   future,  348 
the   Synoptic   Gospels,    143 
the  Acts,    124 
supposed     mythical     accretion     in 

Acts,    127 
Ephesians,    136,    142,    171 
Philippians,    141 
Selection,  213,  214 
Self-consciousness,    309,    331 
Senses,   the,   309 
Service,   the   Presbyterian   Communion 

service,  262  n. 
Seven,  the,  130 
Sex,  98,  99,  284,  294,  364 
Slavery  — 

the  campaign  to  abolish  it,  353 
Solitude,   229 
Spirit  — 

God  as  indwelling  Spirit,   5 

the    Holy    Spirit,    meaning    of,    25, 

116,    151 
influence  of  the   Holy   Spirit,   51 
goal  of,  54 
coming  of,   115 
existence     of     spirit     often     denied, 

309 

spirit  and   matter,   313 
State,    the,    243 
Stoicism,   229 
Subconscious  mind,  40 

reflection,   204 
Suggestion,   41,    75,   248,   249i  2SS 

abuse  of,  251 
Supernatural,  the,  30,  31,  32 
Symbols,    165,    i56,  238 

not  a  pretence,  238 


Telepathy,  45,  46,   iS7,  2S8 
Theism,   5,   6 

Theology,    popular   theology    on    disas- 
ters, 53 
"Togetherness,"   133 
Transcendence  of  God,   13 
Trinity,   the,   26,  287 
Tritheism,   n,  53 

in   popular  Christianity,  346 
Truth,   310 

the  criterion  of,   211 

love   of,    3S4 

"  Catholic  "        and        "  Protestant  " 
truth,   3SS 


INDEX 


373 


Universals,  312,  318 
Universe  — 

its  meaning  to  us,   329 
Use,   317 

Value  — 

contrasted   with   use,   317,    327 

spiritual   values,    149 

aesthetic   value,   267 

survival   value,   333 
Visions  — 

of  Isaiah,  206 

of    Bohme,   207 

TertuUian  on,   197 


Western  text,   139  n. 
Will  — 

to  power,   302 

creation  in  terms  of,   13 

the   conscious   will,    73 

infirmity  of,   81 
Word,   175.     See  Logos 
Works  — 

faith  and,   185 
World,    the  — 

and  God,  12,  13,  15 
Worship,    297 

Zoroastrianism,  202 


INDEX  OF  PROPER  NAMES 


Allen  — 

The  Continuity  of  Christian  Thought, 

10 

Ananias,    134 
Anselm,  351 
Aquinas,    351 
Aristotle,   99 
Arnold,   Matthew,  88 
Augustine,  St.,  31,  173.  i74.  »82,  282, 
287 

Bartlet  — 

Afostolic  Age,    125  n. 

Commentary  on  the  Acts,  125  n. 
Beaumarchais  — 

Marriage  of  Figaro,  299 
Becelaire,   E.   L.   van  — 

Enc.    Rel.   and   Eth.,   s.v.    "  Grace  " 
(Roman  Catholic),   182  ti. 
Beethoven,    169,   283 
Belle  dame  sans  merci.  La,  282,   290, 

293 
Bergson,   108 
Blake,  207,  208 
Blass,   138  «. 
Bohme,   207 
Bond,    F.    B.— 

The  Gate  of  Remembrance,   204  n. 
Browning  — 

Paracelsus,    1 7 
Browning,  Mrs.,  264 
Butler,   Josephine,   364 
Butler,   Samuel,  316,  356 

Caird  — 

Ezolution   of   Religion,    7,   9 
Cavallerxa   Rusticana,    295 
Challenge,   The,  359 
Church  Times,  The,   125  n.,   181  ti. 
Clement  of  Alexandria,   17s 
Clouston,   Dr.,    113 
Clutton-Brock  — 

Studies    in    Christianity,    179  n. 
Coleridge  — 

The  Ancient  Mariner,  279 
Conybcarc,    F.    C. — 

Key  of  Truth,    139  «. 
Cook.   E.   T.— 

Literary  Recreations,  206  n. 
Coover,   Dr.,  4s  n. 


Creighton,   296 
Cutten,  G.   B.— 

Three    Thousand    Years    of    Mental 
Heating,    161  n. 

Davidson,  Dr. — 

Old  Testament  Prophecy,  205 
Davis,  Dr.  A.  E.,  259 
Didache,   The,    139 
Dodd,   Rev.  C.  H.,   191 
Dougall,   Miss  L. — 

God  and  the  Struggle  for  Existence, 
55  n. 
Driver  — 

Century  Bible  Zechariah,  161  n. 
Dubois,   1 1 1  n. 

Ebionites,  Gospel  of  the,    123  n. 
Edison,    104 

Emmet,  Rev.  C.  W .,  30 
Encyclopaedia  of  Rel.  and  Eth.,  160  n., 

184  n. 
Euripides  — 
Baccliae,  282 

Fabian  Society,  the,  363 
Figgis  — 

The   Will   to   Freedom,  208 
Francis,  St.,  292,  301,  351 

"legend  "   of,    127 

Galileo,  34 
Gibson  — 

Thirty-nine    Articles,    180  n.,     182  «. 
Gladstone,    105 
Glastonbury,   204  n. 
Granger  — 

The  Soul  of  a  Christian,  207  n. 

ITadficId  — 

in   Immortality,  7J  n. 
Halifax,    Lord,    181  n. 
Hamilton,   Dr. — 

The  People  of  God,    198,    199 
Hankey,    Donald  — 

The  Lord  of  all  Good  Life,  204 
Harvey,   John  — 

Competition       a     Study    m     Human 
Motive,   1 78  n. 


375 


3/6 


INDEX  OK  PROPER  NAMES 


Haydon  — 

Haising  of  La:arus,  208 
lU-Krl  — 

Fliilosot'hy    of    History,    Philosof'hy 
pf  Law,   19 
Hilpreclit,    Professor,    203,    204 
Holland,   Canon    Scott,   284 
Ilort,   Dr.— 

Christian   Ecclcsia,    tjo 

Life  and  Letters,   180  «. 

Epistle  of  St.  James,   190 
Horton,   Dr. — 

.iutohiosraphy,   36,  42,   43 
Hiigel,  Von  — 

Eternal  Life,    151  n. 
Hume  — 

Dialogues    concerning    Natural    Re- 
ligion,   12 

Ibsen,  300 
Ignatius,    136  n. 
Illingworth,    Dr. — 

Divine  Immanence,  163,  200  n. 
Inge,   Dean  — 

Personal  Idealism  and  Mysticism,   5 

in  Quarterly  Review,   130  »i. 

Christian   Mysticism,    197  «.,    200  «., 
207  n.,  230  n. 
Innisfree,  285,  287 
Isaiah,  205,  214 

James,  M.  R. — 

The    Biblical    Antiquities    of    Philo, 
214  n. 
James,  W.,  94,  95 

Varieties    of    Religious    Experience, 
38,   46,    122  n. 
Janet,   108 
Jung,   108 

Analytical  Psychology,    uin. 
Justin    Martyr,    122  n. 

Keats,  283,  28s 

La  belle  dame  sans  merci,  282 
Knowling,  133  n. 

Lacey,  T.  A. — 

Nature,    Miracle,    and    Sin,    1 73  n., 

174 
Leibnitz,  307 
Leland     Stanford    Junior    University, 

45  «• 
Lotze,    19 

Microcosmus,    19 
Luther,  37 


M'Dougall,   William,   71 

Social   Psychology,   85,   252 
Mackintosh  — 

Encyclopaedia  of  A'c/.  and  Eth,  s.v. 
"  Grace,"    160  n. 
Merchant  of  Venice,  The,  37 
Mcsmcr,    161  n. 
Michael   Aiigcio,    152 
Mill,   322 
Milton,    287 
Mobiiis,   III  H. 
Montreal,   39 
Moody,   38,   46 
Morris,   William,    294 
Mosso,   74,   77 
Mozart,   300,  301,   331 

Ai'e  Vcrum,  295 

Figaro,   299 
Myers,   Frederick,   44 

St.  Paul,   179  n.,  205 

Human    Personality,    202  n.,    203  n., 
204  n.,  205  n.,  208 

Napoleon,   105 
New  Statesman,  The,  42 
Nietzsche,   208,    209,    331 
Nippur,   208 

Omar,  184 
Origen,    175 

Pascal  — 

Les  Provinciates,   182 
Paton,  J.   L. — 

in   Cambridge  Essays  on  Education, 
150  n. 
Paul,    St.,    on    conflict    of    higher    and 
lower  self,   22 

on    "  prophecies  "    and    "  tongues," 
126 

narratives   of  his  conversion,    128  n. 

on  Koinonia,   134,   13s 
Philo,  9,  214  n. 
Plato,    143 
Plotinus,  230 
Pope,    5 
Pringle-Pattison  — 

Idea  of  God,    120  n. 

Rashdall  — 

Philosophy  and  Religion,   198  m. 
Rasputin,    159  n. 

Robinson,  J.   Armitage,   133  m.,    171  w., 
189  n. 

Sabatier,   A.,    198 
Samson,   73 


INDEX  OF  PROPER  NAMES 


377 


Sanday,    167  n, 

and   Headlam,   Romans,    190  ti. 
Schubert,   206,  285 
Shakespeare,   298 
Shaw,  B.,  358,  364 
Shelley,   278,  283 

Prometheus    Unbound,   296 
Smith,   G.   A. — 

The  Book  of  Isaiah,  206  n. 
Spinoza,  4,    13,    14 
Stevenson  — 

Across  the  Plains,   207 
Streeter  — 

in   Constructive   Quarterly,    345  n. 
Swinburne,   291 

Tennyson,   s 
Tertullian,    197 
Tintoret,   287,   301 
Torrey,   Professor,    128  n. 
Trotter  — 


The  Instinct  of  the  Herd,  87 
Twentieth    Century    S'ew    Testament, 
1 89 

Voltaire,   303 
Catilina,   20S 

Waller,    106 

"  Weir  Mitchell  "  treatment,   102 

Wells,   Mr.,    12,    13,   209 

God   the  Inzisible  King,  209 
Wilberforce,   86 
Worcester,   E. — 

The  Christian  Religion  as  a  Healing 
Power,    1 1 1 
Wordsworth,  201,  233 

on  Tintern  Abbey,  37 

Prelude,  230  n. 

Zaratbrustra,   208 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA   AT  LOS   ANGELES 

THE  UNIVERSITY  LIBRARY 
This  book  is  DUE  on  the  last  date  stamped  below 


1944 

MAY  1  9  1953 

JAN  14  19||| 


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